Abandon All Hope
by Rosie The Riveter
Summary: Spinelli reaches his lowest point in life only to realize that things could always get much, much worse. A DARK fic. SpinMax/Spixie eventually. Not for the faint of heart. A co-fic by Seeker-2000 and Rosie the Riveter
1. The Dark Night

IMPORTANT AUTHOR NOTE: This story has been in development for several months now. We started writing it back before some characters (like Matt Hunter) were even on the show, before Jason had even taken over the mob. Please allow us our creative liberties in certain areas. The story was too far gone before certain situations happened to change the fic. The only thing that is essential: Spinelli and Maxie have made love but she has kept telling him that he is only a friend. In the meantime, a new doctor (Matt Hunter) has come into her life, and Spinelli sees his friend drifting towards him. The setting is perhaps a few months ahead in time.

This fic is a combined effort of Seeker-2000 and Rosie The Riveter (Bela516 at Opposites Attract). Seeker-2000 is the author of The Luckiest, Rosie (Bela516) is the author of One Wild Night and Love Lessons (LL found exclusively on Opposite Attraction, a Spinelli and Maxie forum). Check them out!

ALSO: This is an extremely dark and violent story. It will not push boundaries beyond its rating, but it will also not hold back. If "The Dark Knight" was rated PG-13, then this is a T-rated fic. Understand? If you are squeamish, refrain from reading. Proceed with caution - you have been warned.

Thank you.

Seeker & Bela

**EDITED TO NOTE: This was first published under the name of SEEKER-2000 - we have decided to move it here for reasons that are not important. We are still writing together and we cannot wait for you to read what we have come up with - to those who wonder if this will get darker - in a word: yes.**

Abandon All Hope

Chapter 1: The Dark Night

Spinelli slumped against the wall of the elevator, a feeling of pervading hopelessness making it almost impossible to stand. The days were getting more and more impossible to face; each morning he awoke more tired than the day before and dreaded the thought of even getting out of bed. What was the point? He would get up, get dressed, go somewhere and eventually, someone or something would remind him of what a pathetic loser he was. His body ached as if he had walked a lengthy distance – it was as if his life was a never-ending series of failures.

And nothing clarified this to him more than his painful, unreturned love of Maxie Jones. Each time he saw Maxie, he was reminded that she would never love him. He had fallen in love with her and she thought of him as a friend at best and an annoying pest at worst. He knew in his heart that no one would ever love him. He was unlovable. Every day it seemed there was something else waiting to point out this completely devastating but undeniable fact. A quick glance of confusion from someone when he said "The Jackal", or the snickers behind his back when he stumbled over his clumsy feet.

This afternoon had been particularly bad. He had been at Kelly's and was trying to talk to Maxie but ever since she had met Matt, she had drifted even further away from him. Matt had come in and her attention was lost as Matt sat down with them. He had excused himself from the conversation and gone to talk with Mike.

He told himself he should be lucky to even have her acknowledge him as a friend. She had only become friends with him while she was recovering from her sister's death. Now that she was able to face life again, she didn't really need him. He still needed her - desperately - but it didn't matter. His needs didn't really matter. He had helped so many people so many times but now, when he needed help, he found it impossible to tell anyone. Who was he going to tell? Maxie, Lulu, Jason – they all had important things going on in their lives. Too important to waste time listening to his problems. How could he tell them he was falling – as if he was hanging from a cliff, his fingernails bloodied and broken and clutching. There was always a cold feeling in his mind, like ice melting slowly, forming a puddle on his thoughts. So he kept it to himself and pretended he was alright; laughed when his heart broke, smiled as he died inside, so no one would know. He couldn't let them know.

And this day was no different.

To make matters exponentially worse, Sonny came in as he was sitting at the counter talking to Mike. He bullied him, called him a freak again. Spinelli froze, letting the phrase cut into him for the millionth time. Sonny had no idea what that word really meant, being accepted and even revered (by some) his entire life. No one ever questioned him, his place, doubted that he was good enough to breathe air. Sonny could say the word "freak" as easily as Spinelli could say "fair" or "generous", light as air. He could do this, because Sonny clearly had no damn clue what the single syllable word meant to him.

He said it in front of Mike and Maxie and Matt and everyone in Kelly's, like it was a no heavier than a feather, when really it was another weight clinking on the ground in Spinelli's mind.. He had gotten in his face and taunted him; had made his face blaze with humiliation, and if Spinelli was a man he would've crammed the word back down the man's throat and suffocated him with it. But Spinelli? Hah. He wasn't a man. Not in the slightest. He had no bravery beyond what was needed to walk in public.

Sonny had said "freak", and at that moment, there had been a flash of a face, different from Sonny's, but the same words. The anger had grown in him until he couldn't even feel his body – only the red-hot rage - and he knew that he couldn't contain the fury anymore. He lost it, grabbed Sonny by his jacket and threw him down on a table. "I am not a freak!!" he screamed in his face. Maybe he was a man after all? His entire body was shaking – he realized he felt something else too – fear – a cold, unexplainable, yet familiar fear.

He let go of Sonny and looked around. Everyone was staring at him – even Sonny, when he had picked himself off the table – had looked at him like he was dangerous or crazy. Maxie looked as if she didn't know him. It was then he realized - he was exactly what they said he was – a freak. He had wished that he could have disappeared into a hole in the earth. Instead, he had hung his head in shame, grabbed his laptop and left Kelly's before anyone could see the tears in his eyes. No one thought Damian Spinelli "The Jackal" had any feelings of pain or sadness or anger. They all thought he was perpetually happy and things just rolled off his back. They didn't know that each and every insult hammered into his brain. Every time someone called him a freak or told him he was strange, his soul grew dimmer. He knew he was different - but why was it that no matter how hard he tried, he always – always – failed.

He rested his head against the wall of the elevator waiting for the doors to open but wished he could curl into a ball and never move again.

His life would never be any different; he would never have anyone that loved him other than as a faithful friend, like a pet. A golden retriever, sweet friendly yellow dog. He would never have anything that made him truly happy, would never have a life other than a fantasy world where he invented someone to love him. The golden retriever in the plastic world chasing tennis balls for eternity. If this was how life was going to be for the next sixty years, he knew he wouldn't be able to take it. Didn't want to take it. What was the point? He was too tired. Too tired to think anymore. Too tired to try.

The redundancy of it all was…unbearable.

...

Jason entered the Penthouse and took off his leather jacket. It took a moment before he registered Spinelli sitting silently in the dark; his back was to Jason and he neither turned nor spoke. This in itself was unusual in the extreme. He flipped on the lights.

"Spinelli? What's going on? You feeling OK?"

Spinelli still did not reply, only lifted his hand to his face in a weary gesture. Jason threw his keys on the desk, where their clanging cut sharply through the still air. "Maxie left a message for me – something about a fight with Son-" Jason stopped short as he came around to the front of the chair and saw the object in Spinelli's lap; His face was twisted in anguish and flushed, his eyes glassy and feverish. Jason felt a cold knot form in his stomach.

"Spinelli – " Jason said quietly and carefully as if Spinelli was a ticking bomb. "What – what are you doing with that?"

Spinelli looked up at Jason as if he just realized he was there and didn't quite recognize him then looked down at the pistol in his hands. "I – just – I – tried, you know." Spinelli spoke in halting words as if he couldn't remember how to form sentences. Looking from the gun and back into Jason's face a few times, Spinelli blinked as if trying to comprehend where he was.

"I try – so hard - so hard – all the time. But it doesn't do any good," Spinelli stammered, clenching the pistol. "Nothing ever changes. I thought here would be different – but it's not. He followed me here and I can't make him go away and he keeps ruining things."

"Who Spinelli?" Jason sat down close on the couch. "Who are you talking about?" He was unsure what to do and was unused to the feeling. His best friend was talking nonsense and holding his gun; a cold fear washed over him at the thought of what Spinelli was thinking; what could have happened if he had come home a few minutes later.

"Stone Cold does not understand what The Jackal is saying." Spinelli shook his head slowly and spoke softly as if he was speaking to himself. "He tries to understand and he wants to but he does not. He will never understand how The Jackal feels." Spinelli's hands shook as he rotated the pistol in his grip.

Jason made a move to take the gun away from him but Spinelli clutched it to his chest like a security blanket. "No!"

Jason backed off and held his hands up. "OK. Ok, Spinelli – you can hold it. I just – I need to ask you what you want to do. You're scaring me OK?"

"Stone Cold is never scared." Spinelli rubbed his forehead as if trying to erase something.

"I am right now. I don't – I don't want you to hurt yourself - what were you planning to do with my gun?"

Spinelli closed his eyes as if shutting out the scene. "I don't want to hurt myself – I don't. I just – I - don't want to feel anymore. Not like this. Not like me. I can't – " He sighed and slumped down in the chair. "The Jackal knows he can not help him anymore."

"Help who? Spinelli – help who?" Jason was confused by Spinelli's jumbling of personalities and references to himself in the third person – even more than usual – as if he had splintered off into separate entities that were warring with themselves.

"Me. He can not help me."

"Spin – I'm going to take the gun – ok?" Spinelli shook his head, frustrated. "Yes. I need to take it. I'm not going to let you hurt yourself. Give me the gun." Jason insisted, inching closer to the young man, silently praying that he would listen to him. "Spinelli – we're going to get through this ok? We're going to get you some help."

"There's nothing you can do." Spinelli moaned as his head ached and spun. His thoughts were mixed up and he couldn't remember who he was supposed to be, Spinelli, The Jackal, Damian or someone else, a little boy, long forgotten, left alone.

"Yes – yes there is. Were going to fix this. I need you to give me that." Jason carefully pried the gun out of his hands, checked the safety, and then placed it out of his reach on the coffee table. "We're going to the hospital."

"No – No, Stone Cold!" Spinelli opened his eyes wide and tried to get up from the chair - he didn't want anyone else to know about this. Just the thought of going to the hospital, the white rooms, the peering stares as he was looked at like an alien creature in a cage, it all was too familiar and made his stomach flip.

Jason gently pushed him back down "Yes. Spinelli – I can't help you by myself – ok? You need to talk to someone – a doctor ok?" He looked him in the eye. "You are important to me and I'm not going to let you down. I'm going to get you some help."

Spinelli pushed his hands into his eyes but couldn't stop the sobbing that racked his body. He nodded his head, acquiescing to Jason's words – realizing his friend wouldn't let him drown in the endless pain and confusion. For the first time in his whole life, someone was going to fight for him.

He felt Jason's hand on his back and the gesture felt comforting and yet terribly painful at the same time.

...

A/N: Thanks for reading the first chapter! We love reviews. Thanks Katy for the encouragement.

Next Chapter: Spinelli gets help…

SIDENOTE:

_Inferno by Dante Alleghieri_

_Dante Alleghieri was a 13th Century writer most notably famous for his work The Divine Comedy (consisting of three works Inferno, Pergatorio and Paradiso). Comedy does not refer to the work in the modern term of comedy but in one of the classic styles, the other being tragedy._

_"(Dante) held a number of significant public offices at a time of great political unrest in Italy, and, in 1302, he was exiled for life by the leaders of the Black Guelphs, the political faction in power at the time. All of Dante's work on The Comedy (later called The Divine Comedy, and consisting of three books: Inferno, Purgatorio, and Paradiso) was done after his exile. He completed Inferno, which depicts an allegorical journey through Hell, around 1314. Dante roamed from court to court in Italy, writing and occasionally lecturing, until his death from a sudden illness in 1321." _

_credit: Sparknotes/poetry/inferno/context.html_

_The most famous quote from Inferno is: Lasciate Ogne Speranza, voi ch'intrate - translated: "Abandon all hope, who enter here."_

_We hope you enjoy our tale._

**Reviews for the Chapter 1 – The Dark Night**

**hollyg3 2008-08-07**

**ch 1, Oh, man! This is awesome! So heartbreaking. I have been dying to see something like this on the show. I want to see Spinelli have a breakdown. There has to be something devastating in his past that made him hide away from the real world. I'm on the edge of my seat waiting for part 2!**

**Soulache 2008-08-07**

**ch 1, this is so good. i love dark fanfictions. poor spinelli though. he's such a sweet guy on the show, but you could easily see something like this happening to him.**

**and i agree about sonny getting what he deserved. everytime he talks to spinelli i just hate his character a little more.**

**Ladyjaxs999 2008-08-06**

**ch 1, Awesome first chapter, this is going to my favs...can't wait for the update...I feel so sorry for spin!!**

**SenaCutie15 2008-08-06**

**ch 1, That was amazing! Hurry with the next chapter!**

**Nmissi 2008-08-06**

**ch 1,More please? Yes, it's dark, but it's so very promising.**

**JasonElizabeth2gether4ever2... 2008-08-06**

**ch 1, Whoa! That was different, but I liked how dark it was. I can't wait for the next chapter. I hope Spinelli turns darker and becomes a completely different person. This is great! Post more soon!**

**Onesmartgoalie 2008-08-06**

**ch 1, Wow, that was good. Dark and twisty fics always rock. Anyways, update soon!**

**hhh569 2008-08-06**

**ch 1, I love the story. Keep going so many people can relate to how spinelli is feeling**

**penguino3782 2008-08-06**

**ch 1, What a great start. It's nice to see Jason return some kindness to Spinelli (we don't always see that on tv). My interest is peeked and I can't wait for the next chapter!**

**MercuryMan 2008-08-06**

**ch 1, Um, there's more right? Cause this wasn't as dark and violent as advertised, and that's what I was looking forward to! I was hoping he would stab Sonny with an icepick! But then again I am pretty sick and twisted!**

**Seriously though, great start and since you two are a couple of my favorite fanfic writers, you know I am going to read and enjoy this. I wonder what kind of reception such a depressing view of Spinelli will get, but I know you guys are prepared for that. Personally, I like reading something different and challenging! Looking forward to more!**

**Ayshen 2008-08-06**

**ch 1, That was so intense I could really feel the depth of the Jackal's pain.**

**When Jason came in and saw him with the gun, I kind of lost it...I could just see it and I adore the JaSpin relationship...I am so glad that Jason is fighting for him :sob:**

**LuckyDuck29 2008-08-06**

**ch 1, I was almost in tears through this entire chapter!**

**I'm so glad Spinelli gave Sonny what he deserved!**

**Can't wait for the next chapter, but I have to go read something happier now. I don't want to be in tears when my boyfriend arrives. He'll think I'm nuts for crying for Spinelli.**

**Sting Ray Girl 2008-08-05**

**ch 1, Woah.**

**It would seem suicide is the new pregnancy?**

**Awesome. really moving.**


	2. The Game of Life

**Author's Note: Seeker and I want to thank everyone for all their wonderful comments and reviews. It is really rewarding to know that all our work was so well received. We have been working on this story for months doing research, brainstorming and editing like mad. We know it is a very dark tale, one that is much different than a lot of the fan fic out there so we are grateful to everyone that is welcoming of such a story.**

**As hinted at in the first chapter, this story was inspired by the work of Dante Alighieri, a 13-14th century writer. Inferno was his imagining of a journey through hell and back. This story is also a very personal one that has been brewing in me for a long time. I just needed the right character to bring it out and the right partner to write it with. This show's fans often only see Spinelli as comic relief but his lightheartedness covers a lot of pain. You may need to examine his words more carefully to see it and I think it takes a very thoughtful viewer to recognize it but it is there, under the surface.**

**To everyone: Reviews are like oxygen to us and definitely make the work worth it. It gives us fuel to keep writing. Let us know what you like and what you would like to see. Again, thank you for taking the time to review.**

**It has been an interesting couple of days for Seeker and me and to those of you who are supporting us behind the scenes, thank you. It is great to find out those people that are true friends.**

**This part of the story is just the tip of the iceberg. Much more is coming. Secrets galore.**

**Thanks, Bela and Seeker**

The room was white and sterile. He remembered this. All these rooms were alike. And the rooms always smelled the same - like mint and disinfectant; it made his nose itch. And the doctors always asked the same kind of questions - questions that were impossible to answer right. Like a game show in Hell. Any minute now some twisted vision of Bob Barker would come in and ask him if he preferred to keep 70 cents or spin again. It didn't matter either way; he'd always end up being the showcase. It might be funny. It was odd, how funny things seem when you've lost your damned mind.

Spinelli intently picked at a loose thread on his shirt as they asked him those questions. The ones he didn't want to answer. The plastic bracelet around his wrist bit into his skin and annoyed him. Why did he need to be tagged and rounded up like an animal?

"Mr. Spinelli? Did you hear my question?" No, he didn't and he didn't particularly care to either.

He sighed and rubbed his head. "Can I get an orange soda?" He asked Jason, the only person he wanted to talk to – a desperate pleading look on his face.

"In a little while." Jason said gently. "You need to answer Dr. Jordan's questions first."

Spinelli had protested furiously when they had asked Jason to leave but now wished he had allowed it. He was profusely embarrassed at the weakness in his soul, in his mind. Stone Cold would never have wound up in a mental ward. He hated that tone in Jason's voice, like pity and disappointment. It was sickening. He should've just done it, not hesitated and pulled the trigger, because living through this shame was so much worse. _Choose B-4 - Hit! You've sunk my Battleship_!

"Mr. Spinelli?" Dr. Jordan prompted again. "Are you having trouble sleeping?"

Spinelli sighed again. Stupid question. "Yes."

"When was the last time you slept properly?" Even worse question.

"I don't know. I – a while." He rubbed his forehead, a slight relief filling him as he blocked out the eyes watching him.

"Are you having any headaches?" The doctor asked, and Spinelli instantly stopped rubbing his head, angry that even that motion gave something away to the doctor. He didn't know where the hostility was coming from. Perhaps it was just being caught. He caught Jason's eyes, full of concern, and Spinelli instantly buckled. He needed help. This was it. Swallowing some rising bile in his throat, Spinelli decided to cooperate. _Right hand red, left foot blue. _

But, where to start? "I – kind of feel like my head is - always buzzing. I don't know how to describe it. It – it's kind of driving me crazy." Spinelli found his comment sadly funny and he started laughing crazily at his own bad choice of words. He stood up and paced the room wishing he could go online and disappear into a fantasy.

"Mr. Spinelli – were you going to try to harm yourself?"

He bit his lip. Why did they ask? Did he have to say it? That wasn't right. They knew already, why did he have to say it? Did the doctor get a kick out of it or something? Spinelli resisted the urge to knock a hole in the tile glaring peacefully back at him. _It was Professor Plum in the billiard room with the revolver! _

He spun around on his heel. "I – I can't – Stone Cold can we go home – please?" Spinelli scratched his arms as if his skin was crawling. "I - I don't want to do this. Please." He backed into the corner of the room, his back against the wall. This was so embarrassing.

"Hey – it's going to be OK, but you need to answer ok?"

"I don't want to die – I just want it all to - stop – just stop - I can't – " Spinelli slid down the wall and pulled his legs up, he hugged his knees and laid his head down on them. He whimpered. God, that stupid pitiful noise.

Bob Barker asked if he wanted to spin again. "You have to tell me, Mr. Spinelli or we can't help you. Were you going to try to harm yourself?"

" - Yes. I was." He muttered into his knees. _Do not pass go, do not collect 200. Go straight to jail. _

Jason inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Until he had admitted it, Jason had tried not to believe that Spinelli had really intended on killing himself with his gun. Jason hurriedly blinked away the tears forming in his eyes. He went over to Spinelli and knelt down beside him. "You're gonna be ok." Jason put his hand on Spinelli's head. This kid was like his own little brother, maybe as important to him as his own son was.

_Game over. _

"Mr. Morgan? Let me talk to you outside please." The doctor motioned for Jason to follow her out the door.

"I'll be right back, ok? Why don't you lie down on the bed and try to get some rest." Jason helped Spinelli up and watched as he crawled slowly up on the hospital bed in the exam room. Jason followed the psychiatrist into the hallway.

The doctor sighed heavily, pulling the door closed. "Mr. Morgan – I am going to admit him on a 72 hour hold. We'll start him on some medication for the depression and see how he feels in a few days. He is going to need to be set up in therapy. I am thinking that this has been going on for a while so it is going to take a while for us to get his meds right."

Jason was feeling desperate himself. His best friend was falling apart. "When I first got home, he was talking crazy – he usually talks kind of weird but it was like he was talking about himself like he didn't even know who he was."

Nodding, the doctor seemed to understand. "He's just feeling confused right now. We will address the fact that he is talking about himself in the third person. Is that unusual?"

"No – he does that all the time – it was more than that – he was just – I don't know – like you said, confused I guess." Jason sighed and spoke almost to himself. "How did I not know he was feeling like this?"

"Suicidal people are very good at covering up their feelings." Jason winced at the word 'suicidal'. "Often, they are the life of the party, high achievers, the ones people least likely suspect to be depressed. He probably feels embarrassed to feel this way– like he's a failure."

"He's not a failure."

"No he's not – and you did very well by getting him to come in and admit to what he was going to do – otherwise we wouldn't be able to hold him here."

"So – can I stay with him?" Jason asked quietly. The doctor jotted something down on her notepad, nodding his head slowly. It was strange to see someone dealing with this problem so calmly. Jason understood that the doctor was a professional, but it was odd to think that it didn't stress her much.

"We're going to give him a sedative – once he falls asleep, I think it would be ok if you went home and came back tomorrow – I am going to have him in sessions as soon as he wakes up."

"Yeah – ok. I'm going to go in and talk to him, OK?"

"That would be alright. Just reassure him that he is going to be fine. And Mr. Morgan – he will be – we're going to get him through this, ok?"

Jason nodded and went back into the room. Spinelli was staring at the ceiling and biting his thumbnail.

"Hey."

Spinelli sat up, pushing his hair around on his head. He wiped his eyes on the back of his hand, and Jason was sure that he was putting on an act. "Stone Cold, can I go home now? They're gonna give me some medicine, right? And then I can go home?"

"No Spinelli. You need to stay here for a couple of days. They want you to get some sleep and talk to the doctors here."

Paling, Spinelli imploded. "But – no. No! Please - Stone Cold I want to go home! I promise - I won't hurt myself! I just want to go home and sleep in my regrettably pink room." He begged desperately, tears in his eyes.

Jason felt like the worst friend in the world, as if he had betrayed him. He wished he could take him home and help him – he knew exactly how he felt about hospitals. "You are going to be fine. I am going to stay with you until you get to sleep and I will be back tomorrow."

A nurse came in with some pills and water for him. He looked at the pills and reluctantly took them, a sad look in his eyes. "The Jackal is sorry Stone Cold." He whispered as he took the sedatives. "The Grasshopper has let his Master down."

"No you didn't Spinelli – I let _you_ down."

Spinelli blinked rapidly, staring. With a gulp, he closed his eyes, slow breath rushing from his lips.

Jason left General Hospital and drove back to the empty penthouse. When he entered, he went over to the table where his gun still sat - he picked it up and went to lock it up but as he placed it in the box, he stared at it. His weapon of choice.

Spinelli was going to use it to end his own life. The thought of it sent another shiver of coldness up his spine. How many times had Spinelli come to him for advice and he had acted as if he was being annoying? How many times had he seen him in turmoil and thought it was simply the typical growing pains of youth? Spinelli was energetic and joyful and on occasion sweetly melancholy. How had he missed the blackness he had sunk into?

His phone rang and he scrambled to pick it up.

"Jason??" Maxie's voice echoed over the line.

"Yeah Maxie." He replied wearily. He knew he shouldn't blame the girl but if she had only realized Spinelli's feelings instead of breaking his heart and falling for another good looking jerk, maybe he wouldn't be in this situation now.

"Jason – Matt told me that Spin was just admitted to GH! In the Psych ward! What is going on?"

Jason sighed and quietly cursed the intern for telling Maxie what was supposed to be confidential and he knew that the last thing Spinelli would want would be for Maxie to know what had transpired.

"Maxie, he's going to be ok, just, look – just drop it ok?"

"_Drop_ it? I can't _drop_ it. He is my best friend – he has obviously had some kind of breakdown – first he attacks Sonny in the middle of Kelly's and now he's in the _psych_ ward? I need to see him but they said only you can authorize visitors."

"Not until tomorrow Maxie - let's see how things go tomorrow. They have him on sedatives so you won't be able to see him until then anyway and he needs to get some sleep."

Maxie sighed. Her tone softened only because Jason sounded like he was pretty much at the end of his own rope. "OK Jason – just –" Maxie's voice broke. "Tell me he is OK."

"He's OK." Jason lied. "I'll talk to you tomorrow."

Jason hung up the phone and collapsed wearily on the couch. He wouldn't allow himself the comfort of calling Elizabeth. He didn't deserve to be comforted - not now, not tonight, not when Spinelli lay in a hospital room sedated and under psychiatric observation when he should be sleeping happily in his own room.

He asked himself how he could have let his friend suffer and never notice. His answer to his own question was that he was an unfeeling bastard; he vowed to tell his friend exactly how he felt about him, let him know that he was going to fight for him. He just thanked God he still had the opportunity to do it.

…………

Spinelli woke in the middle of the night to a slight tapping on his shoulder. He blinked, blearily, into the darkness, his eyes focusing on tall figure shadowed in the darkness.

"Evening, Mr. Spinelli. I'm the attendant on call…I need to take your temperature." A slick male voice rang out in the dark. Spinelli sat up a little as the male nurse put a thermometer in his ear. It chirped and the nurse made a note on his chart.

"Okay, Mr. Spinelli, you're looking good. If we give you medication, they just like to check to make sure you don't have a reaction. Sorry to disturb your sleep. If you have a problem, push the call button, ask for me."

Spinelli lay back on his mattress, annoyed he had been disturbed for something so mundane. The attendant was looking at him strangely and it gave him the creeps. "And you are?"

"I'm Frank. The other attendant is Leyla Mir, she said she knew you. She's a little busy at the moment, dealing with a patient down the hall with a bad fever."

The nurse stepped out, pulling the door closed. He glowed quickly in the hallway light before moving away. Spinelli glared at him - he had finally been asleep and dreaming, too.

**Next Chapter: The Devil That You Know...If Claudia is the Angel on Spinelli's Shoulder - what does that make Matt?**

**Please Review! Bela and Seeker**


	3. The Devil You Know

Chapter Three: The Devil You Know

Dawn came and Spinelli realized he had been lying awake for several hours, despite exhaustion and the sedatives they had given him the night before. He was scared. He wished he had denied what had happened, told Jason that he had been practicing with the gun - anything to avoid all this. He prayed that no one would find out and he could just go back to his life. Maybe they could give him a pill and it would all be fine. He would be happy. They had pills that could do that now. Didn't they? He would research it.

But he knew that his façade was crumbling, his world slipping sideways. Jason wouldn't let him pretend and there would be no persona he could hide behind to make it all go away. He curled in a ball and closed his eyes trying in vain to force sleep but it was, as always, elusive - so he got out of the bed and walked around his room. There was a small bathroom and he washed his face and looked into the piece of polished metal that served as a mirror.

He assumed that glass was verboten in a suicide watch room – in case he got it in his head to slash his wrists. The reflective surface showed that his face was more pale than usual and his eyes bloodshot. A part of him itched to wave at the people who were no doubt on the other side watching him at that very moment. Put someone on showcase, eventually they'll do a trick, right? He was a goldfish trapped in an aquarium.

He paced the room, feeling as if he was locked in a cage. Was that a side effect of insanity? Pacing? Only crazy, restless people paced. They did it all the time in the movies. Maybe that's why he paced…mimicking whatever actions he was supposed to be going through as a certifiably lunatic. Despite his efforts, flashes of faces and memories kept tormenting him. Memories he had tried to suppress for a very long time.

He knew why everything was coming to a head, why these memories were coming back in rushes, and why he felt like a terrified child again. His mind flashed on a memory, this one not so far in the past.

_Spinelli spotted Dr. Hunter in the hall near the nurse's station. He had come in for his last check up for the Asian Ague and had thankfully thought he would avoid him. _

_Dr. Hunter had been eager to test him for a personality disorder and Spinelli was anxious to avoid him. Coupled with the fact that after Spinelli's brief sexual encounter with Maxie, she had felt badly about herself and despite his protestations, had sought solace in Dr. Hunter's arms. It didn't take a genius to see that he was no longer needed. Why would she want to be with him when she could be with the handsome doctor. The moment Spinelli saw Maxie with him, he felt his heart crumble. Now, he tried to avoid their interactions as much as possible. It was horrible…talking to the man that was slowly taking his Maximista away._

_Unfortunately, the doctor had spotted him and moved in his direction._

"_Dr. Doom." Spinelli acknowledged his physician and tried to brush past him._

"_Hey, Day." Matt said uncomfortably, using the baby nickname of their youth. _

_Spinelli stopped in his tracks. "What?? What did you call me?" He said in a mixture of confusion and disbelief. _

"_It's me – Matt."_

_Spinelli's eyes narrowed as his brain finally registered a face he hadn't seen it in almost 15 years. A thousand words, feelings and thoughts passed between them. He had been near his brother all this time and not even known it._

_But Spinelli did not want to acknowledge his kinship. "What is - the Encroaching MD doing in the Jackal's chosen domicile?" He remarked in an unfriendly and nervous tone._

"_Encroaching?"_

"_Maximista. Maxie." He replied in explanation._

"_She – she and you were --? She said you were just friends – I didn't realize you two were – together."_

"_Well, now the interloping intern knows." He turned to walk away._

"_You used to call me Matty."_

"_What?" He turned back to face his brother._

"_When you were little - you used to call me Matty."_

_Spinelli stared at him then spat bitterly. "Damian was 5. And __**you**__ used to call __**him**__ a lot of things."_

"_Yeah." Matt looked at his shoes not knowing how to reply. "I was a kid – I was stupid."_

"_The Jackal does not know why his sibling has followed him here but he is disinterested in any kind of tearful reunion. The Jackal requests that he be left alone."_

"_You still hate me."_

"_The Jackal does not hate you. The Jackal –- __**I**__ - just don't want you here. I don't need you, not anymore. So just go away." Spinelli backed away then turned and got on the elevator, he punched the button that would take him to the lobby and away from his past._

"_But… I'm your brother," Matt replied dumbly. As if that meant something. _

"_My brother left me without so much as a backwards glance when I was eight years old." _

_Matt watched his baby brother disappear and wished like Hell he could change the past._

Spinelli felt claustrophobic and clammy. So, he decided to leave the room, but when he tried the door, he found it was locked. Trapped in his head with his memories, trapped in a room with himself.

"Hey! The Jackal needs to get out! Someone!" Pounding on the door, panic rose in him. His breath came in desperate gasps. "Help! Let me out!"

A nurse came to the door. Spinelli was glad it wasn't that weird Frank guy. "What's happening Mr. Spinelli? Are you alright?"

"I - I just – The Jackal just needs to be released from his inc-c-carceration." He stuttered. "He can f-feel the air shrinking in this r-room." His hands were shaking and his tee shirt clung to the sweat on his body.

The nurse looked at him with shallow sympathy, like one might look at a person they had huge pity for. It sickened him. Had he stooped that low?

"Mr. Spinelli, I assure you the air supply in your room is fine – you have plenty of air. I can't allow you to wander around. It's for your own safety. Do you need another sedative?"

"N-no. Medication has negative effects on The Jackal." Spinelli retreated into his room feeling like a prisoner. "I n-need to go home." And he also needed for the stupid stutter to go away. Was that a side effect or just more of his past coming back to haunt him? What would be the next ghost?

"You can discuss that with Dr. Jordan in the morning," the nurse started directing him towards his bed, as if he were an unruly child refusing to take a nap. "She will be here in a few hours. In the meantime, try to relax and get some sleep."

Spinelli swallowed a growl. "If The J - Jackal was able to obtain s-slumber, he would not be c-conversing with you right now." He replied softly but lay back down on the bed and tried unsuccessfully to relax as the walls closed in around him. His words were beginning to jumble in his head and it disturbed him; reminded him of another time.

"Stop it," he said aloud. Great. Now he was talking to himself.

Matt surreptitiously scanned the computer screen for info on his brother. There wasn't much to see. He had been admitted for a suicidal gesture the night prior and was being put on anti-depressants. He was starting therapy sessions that morning with Dr. Jordan. That was about it.

He wished that he could tell them everything – things that could be important. Surely his doctors needed to know the whole story before they started poking around in Damian's head…. But he couldn't tell anyone those things. He didn't even know if his brother remembered any of it. After all, he was little when it happened and some things were better left buried.

_But you remember everything don't you Matty?_

Matt hit a button and Damian's file closed.

_Matt sat with Maxie at the table at Kelly's. Damian had been sitting with her when he sat down and he had hoped to start making inroads towards a friendliness with his brother. He didn't make gestures like this to many people. Matt wasn't one for closeness, never having really opened up to anyone in his life. But Damian was different. He needed to make up for the past. His little brother didn't want his explanations, but damn it, he needed to make some things clear! _

_However, his plan failed. It wouldn't be that day for Matt and Damian to bury the hatchet. As soon as he had sat, Damian, who already looked upset about something made an excuse about talking to Mike and got up. Matt tried to keep his face balanced so that Maxie wouldn't be suspicious of him and Damian's tense interaction. _

_Swilling around a glass of water, Matt kept his tone even. "What's wrong with him?"_

_Maxie sighed. "I- I'm not sure. He said he found some information about when he was a kid."_

_Oh god. Matt's hand slipped on the drink, almost letting it flit through his fingers. "About when he was a kid? Like what?_

"_I don't know – he didn't get to it. I'll ask him about it later. Strange – he never talks about when he was a kid."Matt rolled his eyes at Maxie's response. Truth be told, he really only tolerated her company in order to find out more about Damian, who seemed to be enamored with her. It angered him at times how little she seemed to know about her friend though. She claimed him as her closest confidant but it seemed Damian couldn't call her the same, or at least he hadn't chosen to yet. _

_Damian glared at the two of them quickly. Matt instantly scoot his chair back from the table an inch or too. His little brother was very keen on Maxie, and Matt was pretty sure that he was doubtful that their relationship was strictly friendship. Truth was, it was more like Maxie assuming they were friends and Matt not correcting her. _

_The door to Kelly's swung open with a merry tinkle of the bell, completely offsetting the stern walk of the man who had just entered the establishment. Matt realized who it was. The mob boss, the one everyone shook in fear of, the one his little brother worked for…allegedly. It was odd, having that figure come into a place and yet no one so much as flinched. Crime must have been second nature in Port Charles. How wonderful. _

"_Hey – Freaky Boy – I asked you a question. Have – you – seen – Jason??" Sonny Corinthos spoke slowly as if to an idiot. He was standing over Damian and was obviously intimidating him. Matt felt a surge of hatred boil up inside. Damian worked for this guy?_

"_Um – no, Mr. Sir – I have not seen him." Damian looked down at the floor as if he wanted it to swallow him._

"_Look, Sonny – leave the kid alone – he didn't do anything to you."_

"_Mike, stay out of this, OK? I just asked the little freak a question- it's not too much to expect an answer."_

_Before anyone knew what was happening, Damian had launched himself out of his stool and grabbed Sonny by the lapels, throwing him across the table, scattering the remains of someone's lunch on the floor._

_Damian's eyes, usually the color of a calm sea under overcast skies, were almost black and had glazed over. His face was flushed as if he had a high fever. "I am __**NOT**__ a __**freak**__!" He screamed in Sonny's face._

_He seemed to come out of his furious trance and looked around, hands shaking with fury. At once, he let Sonny go, grabbed his messenger bag and ran out the door. _

_Sonny picked himself up off the table and straightened his clothes, embarrassed by being taken down so quickly by a man he had deemed a wimp. "What the Hell is wrong with that kid?"_

"_Maybe you should have left him alone like I said Sonny." Mike replied. "He's not a bad kid. Maybe you and he have more in common than you think - if you know what I mean." He looked at Sonny meaningfully._

"_I should go after him." Maxie started gathering her things._

"_No – just give him time to cool down. He'll be fine." Matt interjected. What the hell was that? These people really didn't know anything about him? How had his brother lived here this long without a single person being aware of his issues?_

_Maxie blinked, hesitating. "You think? I don't know, maybe I should follow him..."_

_Matt shook his head. "Let him be."_

'_But he wasn't fine was he Matty?' _Matt thought to himself._ 'You don't know your little brother anymore. A lot has happened since he was that little guy needing his shoe tied.'_

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews of last chapter! We really appreciate reviews for this fic because we have been working so hard on it, feedback is adored. Especially with the plot becoming more complicated, it is important to know how you feel about it.**

**Thoughts? Please share!**

**--Bela & Seeker.**

**We teased a Claudia appearance - we assure you - she will show up very soon...**

**Next: Spinelli has visitors...**


	4. Nothing Really Matters

GH owns all these characters - no infringement is intended

**Author's Note: Thank you so much for all the wonderful reviews. We so much appreciate feedback and have taken all of it in. Be forewarned that this fic is about to get very, very dark. There is a reason for this that will come to light sooner or later. Take it all in, roll it around in your head - there will be a quiz later**** - and yes, spelling will count. ;) **

**As always, Seeker and I love reviews - we do the happy dance every time we get one, so please if you read, review.**

**Peace,**

**Bela and Seeker**

CHAPTER FOUR: Nothing Really Matters

Maxie paced the corridor outside the locked doors to the psychiatric unit waiting for Jason to arrive. When she saw his pale face, it was obvious he had not slept the night before. A flash of annoyance came over his face, as if to say that he wasn't quite in the mood to deal with her at the moment, but Maxie didn't care. She wanted answers.

"Jason! You need to tell me what is going on – right now! Why is he here? They won't tell me anything."

Jason sighed with frustration and made Maxie sit down in a row of ugly plastic chairs.

"Maxie – last night – I came home and Spinelli – he had my gun."

"What? What do you mean – had your gun? I know he was mad at Sonny but - " She deliberately was trying not to comprehend what Jason was saying. "- he wouldn't have gone after him with your gun."

Jason interrupted her rambling. "No, Maxie – he was – he was going to hurt himself." Maxie blinked but didn't reply. "Maxie – he was planning on killing himself."

Maxie was already shaking her head in disagreement before he had finished his sentence. That was stupid. Adjusting the straps of her purse in her lap, Maxie pursed her lips. He didn't mean it how he said it.

"No. No Jason, you misunderstood. You don't know what you are talking about! He wouldn't do that." Maxie stood up dismissively.

Jason stayed seated. "Maxie - he admitted it – that's why he's here."

"Not possible," Maxie shook her head in disbelief. Not him, not her Spinelli, not her rock. The one person she could count on. How could he have thought about ending his own life? She waited for Jason's expression to change, for him to explain that he was mistaken, she was right. But his blue eyes just stayed sad. It was then that she knew he wasn't fooling with her. Maxie turned her back to Jason – she felt her heart breaking for Spinelli, that he could feel so much despair that he wouldn't want to live. A rock sank down into her stomach and she could feel it dissolving into her blood, slowing down her thoughts. That familiar feeling of loss flitted across her mind. How close she had come to going to another funeral…But there was something more--a thought that he could be gone right now and he would never know how she really felt.

She had kept her feelings for him to herself; denied that she thought of him as anything more than a friend. It would be simpler that way, because she wasn't quite ready to put her heart on the line again. She had told herself that he meant too much to her to ruin it all by reaching for more. Now, she knew that her heart would have been destroyed irreparably if he had hurt himself. Ironically enough, she had been afraid of losing him like she lost everyone else if she told him about the budding feelings. Maxie shook with a quite sob as she realized - he was everything to her.

She had to see him, to tell him how she felt. Maybe it would make a difference. Maybe he wouldn't care. But she had to try.

Turning back around, Maxie felt determined and sure. "I need to see him Jason."

Jason shook his head. "We have to wait until we talk to the doctor. She'll tell us if it is ok."

"Mr. Morgan?" Dr. Jordan came out of the set of doors with a medical chart in her hands. Jason stood up and went to greet the doctor. Maxie followed along behind, wanting to hear for herself what was really going on since Jason didn't feel like sharing all that much with her.

"Dr. Jordan. How is he this morning?"

"He is very agitated." She looked at Maxie. "I'm sorry – should we be having this conversation in private? He listed you as his next of kin and I don't know if he would want me discussing this with anyone else."

"Alright." Jason moved away down the hall with the doctor. Maxie felt herself on the verge of tears. It was obviously bad.

"Mr. Morgan – as I said, he was very agitated this morning. He had a panic attack and was attempting to get out of his room. Even with the sedatives we gave him, he was unable to rest last night. I was just in with him and he was having trouble speaking – has that ever happened before?"

"Trouble speaking? No – in fact he always talks too much. What do you mean – trouble speaking?"

"Stuttering? Finding his words? No?"

"No – that's not Spinelli at all." Jason said in a defeated voice. What was happening?

"Well, it could be the medication. We'll see how he is later today."

"Look, I guess I'm not sure what I should be asking you – what I need to do for him."

"There is no exact, set course for this kind of thing – medication first of all – but that has to be regulated and we have to find the right drug and dosage for him - anti-depressants can be tricky until we find the right combination, sometimes the wrong combination or dosage can make things worse for a while – be aware of that. It's all brain chemistry. What works for one person can make another person worse. But we will find something that helps. And of course, psychotherapy – we may also need _you_ to come in with him for that."

"Me? Why?" Jason did not like the sound of that.

"Well, you seem to be the closest thing he has to family. He says he has a grandmother in Tennessee, but he did not want her to be contacted?"

"No – she's pretty old – I'm sure he wouldn't want her to worry."

"OK – well, the two of you seem very close." It was a statement but sounded more like a question.

"I thought we were – but I guess I don't know." Jason sighed. Spinelli was as close as anyone to being his family, but he wondered now, if he was that close, how could he have let his anguish go on and never know?

"Mr. Morgan – he seems to think you will be disappointed in him."

Jason shook his head. "I could never be disappointed in him. He doesn't have a mean bone in his body and he's the smartest guy I know. He's the only one I can talk to sometimes – the only one who really knows what I'm thinking. He needs to know that."

"Maybe when you talk to him – you can tell him that." Dr. Jordan looked at her watch. "I'm going to see if he is ready for visitors."

...

Jason entered the room where Spinelli lay, his back was to the door, and at first Jason thought he was asleep. "Spin?"

Spinelli rolled over to face Jason. "S-Stone Cold" His eyes were dull and drugged; Jason saw welts on his arms where it looked as if he had scratched himself and his hands were shaking.

"How are you feeling today?" He knew it was a stupid question to ask but he didn't know what else to say.

Spinelli shrugged. "T-the J-Jackal is – f-find-find-." He sighed, frustrated with his own voice. "H – he s-struggles." It was obviously an inadequate explanation for how he was feeling but the only one he could manage. Jason had never seen him have trouble finding words or speaking, his brain was usually working feverishly, his mouth barely keeping up the frenetic pace but he was never at a loss for words.

"It's ok Spinelli – the doctor said it might be the medication that is making it hard to think. She is going to work on that. You need to try to rest though."

Spinelli shook his head. "Can't – can't sleep. Dreams – mem – mem" He sighed. " - old things."

"Memories?"

"Y-yes." He frowned at the thought that someone else would have to finish his thoughts for him.

"What memories?"

He shook his head again – there was no way he could explain what was happening to him, not without being able to speak properly. And even if he could, he wasn't sure he wanted to. The memories were long buried, not ones that were pleasant or that he wanted to dredge up.

Jason held up a paper bag and placed it on the bed beside Spinelli. "I brought you some orange soda."

Spinelli smiled sadly but gratefully. "M-much thanks." But he made no move to take one.

"Maxie wants to see you." Jason offered – thinking that this might cheer him up. Instead, it seemed to agitate him more.

"N-no! The J-Jackal c-cannot see her. N-not like this!" His eyes looked scared again. "You – you must n-not let her. Tell her to g-go away."

"She's worried though."

"The J-J-Jackal cannot. No." His sentences were becoming more and more choppy and disjointed.

"OK. I'll tell her."

"S-Stone Cold."

"Yeah Spin?"

"I'm s-sorry."

"You said that last night – you have nothing to be sorry for. I just wish - I wish I had known – maybe I could have helped."

"St-Stone Cold has his own s-s-secret p-pain." He took a deep breath, as if his energy was being sapped by the struggle to speak. "H-he does not n-need m-more."

"You are my family Spinelli – don't you know that? You don't do you? Jake is my blood but you are my family too. You're my brother."

Spinelli looked gratefully at Jason. The words tore into his heart and he willed himself not to cry like a child. All his feelings were so on the surface that a scratch would set them bleeding.

……………………………

"Maxie – he doesn't want to see you."

"Of course he does! That's ridiculous! Tell him I'm waiting." She demanded again.

"I did. He says no and I am not going to force him. Look, he's really shaky right now, he's having trouble thinking clearly, give him a few days to calm down, let the meds kick in. I think he is embarrassed to have you see him like that."

"But Jason – I need to tell him…"

"What?"

"I – just – I need to talk to him." Her eyes misted over gain. Jason knew the signs. Love that was denied, for one reason or another - was rarely a good thing. Somehow though, it seemed to happen more often than not. She was in love with Spinelli and she had maybe only just realized it.

…………………………

"Jason?"

Jason shut his phone and turned around to see Claudia Zacchara walking toward him, she looked upset. "What are you doing here Claudia?" He asked in a dark tone, knowing already.

"Johnny told me Spinelli was here. What's going on?"

Jason sighed, he really didn't like the woman, but he knew Spinelli did and tried to make allowances for that. "He's getting help. He's going to be ok. He just needs some time."

"He tried to kill himself, didn't he?" She looked at Jason who didn't answer her. "Jason – tell me. He did, didn't he?"

"He had my gun, he didn't use it, but – he might have – if I hadn't come home." Jason's own words made him sick - he didn't want to even say them.

"I need to see him – to talk to him." Jason shook his head at her. "Yes! _Jason_ - look, you think that I grew up in that house with my father and I never _felt_ the way _he_ did? That I never _tried_ what he did? I need to see him, to tell him, that – I don't know – that he is going to get through this."

Jason looked at her in a new light. He knew that her childhood had not been all love and light. He knew Anthony Zacchara had been a bastard to her but he never realized that she had been that unhappy - not unhappy enough to try to kill herself.

"I'll see if he wants to talk to you." Jason relented. "But he won't even see Maxie. I think he's too embarrassed. But I'll try." He indicated to the nurse behind the station that he needed to get into the ward, she checked his ID and buzzed him through.

...

He went back into Spinelli's room and saw that he was lying in his bed staring at the ceiling. "Spin?"

Spinelli sat up. "S-stone Cold. I was wondering if you could b-bring me my laptop?" He sounded tired but his words were clearer.

"I can see if the doctor will let me - you sound better than earlier."

"Y-yeah the Ps- Psychological One said that the medication was interfering with m-my speech. B-but they are regulating it now and it s-should get better." Spinelli paused; revealing anything about his past was difficult for him. "I had a s-stuttering problem when I was a k-kid." Spinelli looked down at his lap as if just the thought of this was extremely disturbing.

"Yeah – well no one would know that by the way you talk nowadays."

Spinelli smiled a half-hearted smile. "Y-yeah – I guess not."

"Hey, listen, Claudia Zacchara is here – she wants to see you – what do you think?"

"V-vixenella?? Y-Yes, she can come in." Spinelli looked relieved, perhaps even hopeful. Jason took this as a good sign but wondered why these two seemed to have such an instant bond with each other. He shrugged mentally. Who was he to question such things? His own relationship with Spinelli was hardly run-of-the-mill and outwardly looked strange to most.

"OK, I'll get her signed in – and I'll be back later. It will give me a chance to go check on things at the office."

"S-Stone Cold, I am sorry that my – p-problems – have caused you distraction f-from you work."

"Hey – don't even think about that. I'm just checking on that stuff to give me something to do while your girlfriend visits." He smiled sarcastically at his friend trying to goad him into smiling. "My one priority right now is for you to get better. There is nothing more important to me than that – you got it?"

"Y-yeah. I got it." But he still looked upset that he had made things difficult for his mentor.

...

Spinelli was looking out the window at the city of Port Charles, wondering what everyone who wasn't being held in a mental ward was doing, if they were happy, if they were in love. If they were going to school, buying coffee on their way to a job, singing to the car radio.

"Hey handsome." His thoughts were interrupted by Claudia's voice. He turned around and the sight of her, the thought that she cared enough to come see him, made a dam in his heart burst. She was his friend. For no reason at all, she cared about him. His face crumpled and she rushed over to him. He fell into her embrace and, though he was taller than she was, she held him as if he was her baby. "Hey – hey, you. It's ok, it's ok. I'm here, ok? You're gonna be alright."

It was really odd to be this vulnerable in front of someone he barely knew. Maybe that was the appeal. She didn't know him like Jason or Maxie. She was slightly distanced. For some reason he felt himself cracking under her eyes.

She stroked his back as he trembled in her arms. "Oh – Sweetie." She had no idea why this kid meant so much to her. He just did. Maybe because he liked her despite all the reasons he shouldn't and that he had no agenda for being nice to her, maybe because they were both black sheep, societal misfits. Who knew or cared?

She pushed him away gently, brushing some hair of his face. "I'm not going to ask you if you are OK, because I know you're not. But I want you to know that you will be. I'm going to be here for you. There are so many people that love you." She pulled him toward his bed and sat on the edge with him, still holding him.

"Do you know how many people care about you? Jason is like a mother tiger." She laughed softly at the image. "Yeah – Jason's your mom." She laughed again. "He loves you very much. He would never say so of course, that wouldn't be manly – but he does. And he told me that Maxie has been trying to get in here. You better let her in, before she sneaks in disguise or something. She loves you – she just doesn't even know how much yet. And Lulu loves you too – that's probably the only time I have come close to liking that girl was when I saw her face talking about how she would be devastated if anything were to happen to you. And I love you. I don't even know how we became friends."

Spinelli looked up at her. "Why d-did you come? How did you know I n-needed you?"

"I just did." She smiled at him. "I just-" She shrugged "- knew that you needed me." She kissed him on the forehead. "Do you know the first time we met? Well, the second time – not at the pool hall – at the penthouse – you know what I thought? I thought. Wow – this guy is awesome. There is no one on earth like this guy. He and I are going to be friends. And remember when we were all stuck together in the Penthouse and you were sick? And I took care of you? Well, I am going to take care of you again. Get you well."

"Th-thank you."

"There's no need to thank me, sweetie. I'm going to tell you something, ok?" Claudia thought about how she wanted to begin. "When I was a teenager, well, some things happened. It's not important what, but there was a time that I was very unhappy. I didn't think things would ever get better. I knew I didn't want to live that way. I took a bunch of pills and went to sleep, hoping for the end. I woke up a few days later in a hospital, kind of like this one. My uncle had found me."

"The reason that I am telling you all this is that, I thank God every day that I did not succeed because I would never have seen Johnny again, I would never have met _you._" She hugged him close again. "So many things. And there are so many things out there for _you_ still. Do you understand?"

Spinelli nodded, still unconvinced, but gaining comfort from her confession and closeness.

Later that morning, Jason returned to find Spinelli and Claudia playing chess on his bed. They held hands, as they played, comfortable in each other's presence. Jason felt his hatred for Claudia waning slightly.

………………

"_Hey stupid! Dummy!" The boy named Gage laughed. He was a thick, stupid looking boy who delighted in picking on anyone smaller._

"_Hey! C-C-C-can't you T-T-Talk?!" His brother Tate called. He was thinner, but his eyes were mean and beady and they scared Damian._

_Damian walked faster past the playground clutching his dictionary, his head down trying to make himself invisible. He hunched over, making himself even smaller than he already was._

"_Hey! I'm talking to you. Answer me! Are you R-R-Retarded?"_

_The two boys stepped off the playground onto the sidewalk in front of him, blocking his path. He stopped and waited for them to pummel him or take his book or shoes or any number of other juvenile tortures he endured on a daily basis. _

_Gage grabbed his book. "What's that you got there? A dictionary??" He laughed. "What does a duh-duh-dummy like you need with a duh-duh-dictionary?"_

_Damian's face grew hot and he prayed for the boys to get bored quickly. _

"_Hey – make him say something." Tate suggested elbowing his brother._

"_Hey - say salamander. Say it!!" Gage smacked Damian on the back of the head._

"_S –Salam-m-ander." Damian stuttered. The two boys erupted in gales of laughter. _

_As Matt turned the corner, he saw his little brother and the two boys. He looked so little standing there, his head hung in shame, one of his sneakers was untied and his fists clenched and unclenched nervously. One of the boys shoved him and Damian stumbled backward and fell._

_The anger boiled up in Matt "HEY!" He ran towards the group. "What do you guys think you're doing?"_

"_Uh – hey Hunter. We're just having a little fun." Gage said nervously._

"_It doesn't look like he's having any fun." He pulled Damian off the ground. "You ok?"_

_Damian looked up at his brother with his sad green eyes, his messy hair falling in his face and Matt felt like a jerk. Only that morning he had been making fun of his stuttering too._

"_Get out of here! And I better not catch you picking on my brother again if you know what's good for you!" He called after them as the two bullies ran off._

"_Hey." He picked up Damian's dictionary off the ground and handed it to him. He always carried it – ever since they had gone to a bookstore with their father. Damian had picked it up and his father had bought it for him. He never let it go. "Those guys are jerks. You let me know if they pick on you again. I'll kick their butts." He knelt down and started tying Damian's sneaker. "You wanna go get some ice cream, Day?"_

_Damian looked at his brother like he was Superman. "Yeah, Matty." He brushed his hair across his face. "C-can I have an orange s-soda too? They are d-delectable." He squeaked in an eager little voice._

_Matt's heart melted, as he looked at the little kid in a new light. His mother had always said he was stupid and a freak. She had always been mean to him and he had followed suit to please her. Now he realized, the little boy was smarter than anyone gave him credit. Matt didn't even know he could read. He was starting to realize his mother had other reasons for hating the little boy that had nothing to do with his stuttering._

"_Ah – Nectar of the God's – yeah, squirt, we can get orange sodas too." He patted Damian on the back. "Sounds like you made it to the D's in that dictionary of yours – __**delectable**__??" He laughed._

_Damian laughed too; maybe he finally had a friend._

...

Spinelli tapped away halfheartedly on his laptop. Jason had brought it earlier for him but it did not lend its usual comfort. Everything seemed a little less _his_ now that he was forced to share things about his mental state with strangers and friends. The line between personal and public knowledge was erased, leaving him wondering where his privacy had gone and if he would ever get it back.

He was still disturbed by the session he had had with Dr. Jordan earlier that evening. How was he supposed to open up to a complete stranger? Tell them things that he didn't even want to think about – much less talk about? How was he supposed to say out loud things that he wanted to forget? And then she had mentioned group therapy. He couldn't do it. There was no way. A bunch of people all gathered around talking about their own pain and him chiming in with his? How exactly was that productive?

A sound in the doorway made him look up; his stomach erupted in unpleasant butterflies when he saw Matt standing there. Spinelli repressed a growl in his throat at the sight of his brother standing in the doorway with a look of sympathy on his face. His pity and concern was the worst out of everyone.

"Hey," Matt started. "How are you?"

Spinelli did not reply. What was he supposed to say? He was fine? Feeling great? Ready to go dancing? Why did Matt find the need to do this? Spinelli had told him quite plainly that he wanted nothing to do with him, he preferred their estrangement.

"Uh – well – I just wanted to see how you were doing. Maxie said you wouldn't see her."

Spinelli had never hated anyone quite like how he hated Matt in that moment. _He_ said _her_ name. He hadn't earned the right. Why did Matt feel as though he was allowed to just come into Port Charles and walk right into his life and have _her_? Of course, his brother had always been the entitled one. Why would this be any different?

"W-why do you c-care?" Spinelli gritted his teeth at the sound of the stuttering voice.

"You're stuttering." Matt said in a concerned tone.

Spinelli glowered back silently. Of course, Matt would point that out.

"Sorry." Matt shuffled uncomfortably. "So – well I – I feel bad because – you know – because of what happened at Kelly's. But – you know – you shouldn't try to take the easy way out. It's a permanent solution to a temporary problem."

Matt probably would've died then and there if looks could kill. Spinelli's fury raged through him, sluggish from drugs, but there and determined nonetheless.

"D-did you get that p-particular n-nugget of wisdom off a Public S-service Poster?" Spinelli grew angry at the trite advice but even more so at the sound of his own stuttering voice.

Matt did not reply because he did, in fact, see it on a poster in the clinic.

"You know- I do-don't know what you want me t-to tell you. D-do you really think I was thinking clearly and r-rationally? You have no idea how I f-felt. D-don't pretend like you know me at all. You haven't s-seen me since I was eight years old and all of a sudden you're g-giving me life advice? Or in this p-particular case, life and d-death advice." Spinelli laughed at his own joke.

"Look, I'm sorry. I just don't want you to think you are alone." Matt shrugged, awkward. "I'm here for you."

Spinelli remembered one thing about his brother, and it was that his bedside manner sucked. Him saying that he was "there for him" sounded about as sincere as a thief saying he was just going to "borrow it". Matt didn't mean what he said at all, he just felt like he should say it. They probably taught him a script in medical school on how to deal with all sorts of situations. Spinelli wondered if "concern for your distanced sibling" was one of them.

"W-what makes you think I n-need you? I have Stone Cold. He's more a b-brother to me than you ever were." Spinelli glared at him – daring him to say anything to the contrary.

"Look there are things you don't know…" Matt started but did not finish. "OK. I - understand. I'm glad you have someone you can count on. Just – look, if you need anything…."

"I don't." Spinelli blinked furiously and went back to tapping on his keyboard but he no longer knew what he was even typing.

…………………….

"Take him – tonight. It's perfect. I couldn't have thought up a better scenario myself. Break in there and take him – they'll think he escaped in order to - shake free this mortal coil - as it were."

"You want us to take him to the warehouse?"

"No. I have a much better plan. A sort of poetic plan."

"OK. We'll make it happen."

"See that nothing goes wrong. You know how I want it done. Make sure you leave _evidence_ that he is dead. Morgan will be beside himself and we can move in on his territory. I want to wreck him."

……………………..

Jason grabbed blindly for the phone in the dark. Flipping the cover open, he grumbled a greeting into the receiver, glaring at the time on the digital clock that read four in the morning. Whoever was calling better have a good reason considering he hadn't slept at all the night before.

"_S-stone Cold. It is I – The -- uh -- Spinelli." _His friend's voice voice was strained. Jason sat up in bed.

"Spinelli? What is wrong?" He heard what sounded like labored breathing.

"_I – uh – I'm not sure why I'm c-calling." _Spinelli stuttered_. "I uh- guess I just n-needed to talk but – don't w-worry about it. I'll – talk to you in the m-morning." _

"No, Spinelli, it's fine. What do you want to talk about?"

"_It –uh – it doesn't matter. B-bye_."

Jason heard a click and the line dropped. He then stared into the darkness wondering if he should go to the hospital or give his friend some space. Little did he know, it wouldn't matter. By the time he had made up his mind, it was already too late.

**Next: Spinelli learns just how bad, "bad" can get.**


	5. Hide and Seek

**Author's Note:**

**It's been a while eh? Yeah…I had to deal with school and hurricanes and Bela had to deal with Iraq and sandstorms. It happens. LOL**

**SEEKER-2000**

**As Seeker said, yeah - we have been having to deal with freakish weather and me being without a reliable internet connection. We had no intentions on leaving everyone hanging like this - so to appease you all we are publishing a long, dark chapter. Forgive us for abandoning you all. **

**Rosie (aka Bela)**

Abandon All Hope

Chapter 5: Hide and Seek

"He didn't kill himself."

"Maxie – "

"He didn't! Don't say that – don't even _think _it!" Maxie stared at the empty bed that only days ago, Spinelli had occupied. There was still the subtle wrinkle in the sheets where Spinelli's body had last indented them. Maxie brushed her eyes harshly. Jason had paid the hospital to keep it empty and untouched so he could investigate the disappearance of his friend. Some of the staff didn't like them lingering around the room of what they assumed was a dead man.

"I didn't say that. I am just telling you what the doctors are telling me. That he escaped and they are afraid he did it in order to – "

"Shut up!" She swung her hand at his face but he grabbed her hand before it made contact. He released her and she collapsed into the armchair beside Spinelli's bed. It couldn't be true – there was no way he was gone – no way. She looked up at Jason, begging him with her eyes to tell her something, anything that would give her hope.

Jason sighed. He felt the same way Maxie did. He didn't believe it – or didn't want to anyway. A few days ago, there would have been no way on earth he would have believed Spinelli capable of hurting himself. That was until he walked in on Spinelli holding his gun and heard his admission that he was intending on using it on himself.

Then…there was that strange message Spinelli left on his phone. Was that his friend's goodbye?

Maxie took a deep breath and pulled herself back to her feet. "There is no way Spinelli went off somewhere to – no – there is something wrong. You _know_ it Jason – you _know_ he wouldn't do that to you. He loves you like a brother."

Jason looked away from her, turning to pull back the undisturbed sheets of the bed, hoping to find some clue.

"He loves you too you know," Jason muttered softly.

Maxie looked at him and bit her lip to keep from crying. "We're best friends –"

"No--" Jason dropped the pillow he had been looking at. Did she not get it? After everything? "He _loves_ you Maxie. You know that."

"Yes," she whispered and dropped her head. She cleared her throat. "Well – that settles it then. He wouldn't have gone off to do something like that. We have to figure out what happened."

Maxie started for the garbage can and lifted the lid. Jason rolled his eyes. They couldn't be unrealistic about this, expecting to find clues mulling around in the trash.

"Maxie--"Jason started to say something, but then stopped, noticing something in the garbage. Maxie froze, holding the lid of the trashcan with a death grip, clinging to it as if it were her only hope. Jason gently maneuvered her out of the way, trying to keep his patience with Spinelli's girl as best he could, knowing she didn't mean to hinder him.

A black cloth lay on top of the trash. It looked out of place in the crisp sterility of a hospital setting. A thought raced through his mind as he pulled the small square from its hiding place. He cautiously sniffed it and pulled it quickly away from his face.

"What is it Jason?"

He looked at Maxie, reluctantly hopeful for a moment. It was a fleeting feeling, and in a moment dread overtook him. Jason looked Maxie dead in the eyes.

"Chloroform."

………………

_A few nights earlier…_

………………

Spinelli felt a strange since of calm for the first time in a while after his afternoon with Claudia. She shared her own pain with him and he found himself able to see a little clearer. His blood still felt cold from the medication running in his veins, but he had a feeling he might actually get some sleep that evening. Maybe, if he was up to it, he'd let Maxie visit.

Standing by the window, Spinelli looked out at the hazy glow of the night. Fog was rolling in. It was kind of hard to see the cars streaking by on the road below. He stood there for a long time just looking.

A slow creak pulled him from his reverie. Spinelli turned towards the door to his room and saw the creepy nurse from a few nights ago staring at him. Frank was his name, Spinelli remembered. Straw blonde hair with dusty grey streaks in the back and beady black eyes, Spinelli had to admit that Frank made him feel uneasy.

"How are you this evening, Mr. Spinelli?" Frank asked, pulling a tray with food on it behind him. Spinelli shrugged, looking out the window again, feeling awkward.

"Dinner," Frank grunted.

Spinelli paused. Obviously this guy didn't take the hint that Spinelli didn't want him there. He was still paused next to the tray of food as if waiting for Spinelli to check it out. Was he going to watch Spinelli eat too? What the hell, did they think he was starving himself or something? These people were so invasive. Bitterly, Spinelli trudged over to the tray of food, his hand hovering over the lid of one plate. He glared at Frank, waiting for him to make a motion to leave. Frank just smiled a crooked grin back at him. A shocked laugh escaped his throat at the realization that Frank actually was going to stay. Spinelli shook his head and pulled the lid off the plate.

The plate was empty. Just as Spinelli was going to ask what kind of joke this was, Frank launched at him, a tight grip squeezing the air out of his throat. Spinelli dug his fingernails into his attacker's hands, trying to pull them off. Frank smiled widely and Spinelli's heart exploded in fear at a swift and random death grinning at him. Frank started pulling Spinelli around the waist towards the door, but Spinelli fought back with all the strength he had in him.

Somehow, Spinelli ducked out of Frank's grip after a swift backwards kick into his kneecaps. There was no escape out of the door with Frank standing right in front of it. Spinelli made a dive for his bed in the hopes of pressing the nurse's button and calling for help. Frank grabbed his ankles and began pulling him backwards off the bed, but Spinelli clawed at the plastic frame, stretching for the button.

They were tangled on the bed for a moment, Frank tearing at his hair and ears and neck, trying to find a unmoving place to grip Spinelli and rip him from his sanctuary before he could call for help. Spinelli was positive he was breaking the flesh of his palms but digging into the bedside structure with such ferocity, not wanting to let go and fall into this horrible man's capture.

"No!" Spinelli sputtered, hoping he was loud enough for someone to hear. Frank pressed his head into the bed and tried to smother him. Spinelli's mind raced and his heart felt sick as adrenaline started mixing with the chemicals in his bloodstream.

"Come on kid, make this easy on us!"

Spinelli had never been more afraid in his life. His mind went elsewhere as his body stayed in the moment, pushing Frank off of him in one strong swoop of motion. He tumbled onto the floor, banging his body against the cold tile. Above him, Spinelli saw his cell phone hanging off the edge of the end table. He reached for it without thinking and pressed Jason's speed dial, but Frank was climbing off the bed and making his way over to him.

Spinelli tried to crawl under the bed in an effort to maneuver past Frank and escape out the door. The phone was ringing in his hand, Spinelli could hear the tone pulsing. Just as half of his body was coming out from underneath the bed, He felt Frank snatch his body backwards.

"Hello?" Spinelli heard Jason's greeting on the other end of the phone, a whisper in the night. Spinelli put the phone to his ear just as Frank flipped him over roughly, slamming him onto the ground. Frank's face was pale as he realized Spinelli had a phone in his hand.

Just as Spinelli said "Stone Cold!" into the receiver, Frank had pinned him down onto the ground and pulled knife from his pocket, pushing it into the flesh at his neck. Spinelli froze, the phone still at his face. He huffed, his chest rising and falling at the same rate as his attacker's.

Frank was giving him a threatening look now. Spinelli could feel the cold metal at his throat. If he said anything to Jason, Frank would kill him. Frank obviously didn't want to end his call without making sure the person on the other end of the line wouldn't be suspicious.

"It is I…the…uh…Spinelli," he choked out. A sharp pain told him Frank had made his first cut, skin deep.

"Spinelli? What is wrong?" Jason replied, sounding concerned. Spinelli's lip quivered, trying to figure out what to say, what wouldn't get him killed.

"_I – uh – I'm not sure why I'm c-calling." _Spinelli stuttered_. "I uh- guess I just n-needed to talk but – don't w-worry about it. I'll – talk to you in the m-morning." _

Frank nodded approvingly, his eyes glowing.

Jason seemed to realize something was wrong. "No, Spinelli, it's fine. What do you want to talk about?"

"_It –uh – it doesn't matter. B-bye_."

Spinelli clicked the end call button on his phone and dropped it, defeated, letting it clang on the ground next to his ear. Frank froze for a moment collecting himself. Spinelli felt like throwing up. Had no one heard him? What was going on?

But he didn't ask any more questions as Frank pulled a black cloth from his pocket and pressed it against his face.

……………………

Spinelli woke up and peered around but his body was so cold and it was so dark that he felt like he had been buried alive. He moved slightly and felt sharp pains in his side and a throbbing in his head. He tried to remember where he was and what had happened. Flashes of memory came back to him like old movie reels. A flash of a face. A gun in his back. A dark car. Muscled men in dark suits. The trunk of a car. A padded room. He remembered vaguely being beaten and a needle sinking into his neck. One of the men had punched him in the side, which was probably why he felt like he had a cracked rib.

"They n-never even asked me any questions." He whispered to himself, remembering Han Solo's line.

He rolled gingerly to his knees and got up, his fear barely at bay. The dark was inky, and felt like the blackness had sunk into his body. He had never liked the dark but he didn't want to think about why. His present situation was scary enough without pulling out old nightmares.

He felt around and realized that he was still in that same, padded room. A flash of a small boy in pajamas, crying in the corner went through his head. Nausea overtook him and he felt an empty sob come from his throat. Fighting the panic that the utter darkness and silence caused, he shivered again and remembered he was still dressed in a tee shirt and pajama pants – they did little to buffer the damp chill in the air.

He remembered the goons prying his computer out of his protesting hands. It felt as if they had taken his security blanket. Spinelli wasn't even sure where his laptop had even come from. He hoped that his security measures would hold up. There were secrets on it that could jeopardize Stone Cold - as well as his own personal secrets. Ones he hoped would never come to light.

Fumbling around in the dark, he found a locked door but not much else. After what seemed like hours, he gave up trying to find a way out and curled into a corner to sleep, aware that, wherever he was and whoever was keeping him there, he was in for much more than he had already endured.

Spinelli woke in terror from a nightmare. He tried to remember what it had been about but it stayed locked in his unconsciousness. His body was covered in sweat and the cold made him shiver. He had no idea how long he had been in that room but he knew that the hunger had made him weak and his stomach felt as if it touched his spine. He realized that a noise had woken him and suddenly a shard of light came into the room causing his dark-adapted eyes to squint at the painful light. He didn't even have the strength to get to his feet.

A man in a wheel chair rolled into the room followed by two large men. As Spinelli's eyes adjusted, he recognized Anthony Zacchara. His already out of control fear tripled; he knew that this enemy of Sonny and Jason's was terrifyingly crazy and had no problems with torturing his victims like an ant under a magnifying glass.

"Mr. Spinelli. I can't tell you how happy I am that you are my guest here. I hope the accommodations are to your liking?"

"S-stone Cold is going to kill you w-when he finds me – y- you know you are a dead man, right?"

"Oh, Mr. Spinelli. That's _if_ he can ever find you. Do you really think that I would have left any evidence that will allow that brain damaged freak to track you down? No. You are my guest for as long as I want to keep you alive. And you are going to help me take down Morgan while you are here."

"I'll n-never help you, Unhinged One." He spat weakly, not knowing anything better to say.

Anthony Zacchara laughed. "You know, I thought you would feel comfortable here. After all, you should be _used_to a padded room, right Mr. Spinelli?" Anthony asked him in a mocking tone then laughed an evil laugh. Spinelli looked around furtively, noticing the writing on the walls, it looked like sheet music. He wondered vaguely why anyone would cover the walls with music.

Anthony indicated to one of the goons to roll him out of the room. The second man tossed a paper bag down on the floor "Eat." he ordered and walked out, shutting off the lights again, plunging the room into darkness.

Spinelli's heart had stopped when Anthony mentioned the padded room. His past was coming full circle. How had he found out? Surely they had not breached the security on his computer already. He had made sure it was virtually impossible. His past was not something he wanted anyone to know about. There was nothing he wouldn't do to keep it a secret and now the one person in the world who held his very life in the balance quite possibly knew.

His mind unwillingly went to his past and more flashes came to him. He hung his head shakily, tears of shame coming to his eyes, pulling his knees up to his chest. Spinelli prayed for Jason to come save him before Anthony found out everything and used it against him.

His hunger eventually overrode his fear and humiliation – he groped around in the dark until he found the bag. Inside, he found an apple and a bottle of water. Spinelli took a long swig and, though it tasted funny, it quenched his thirst. As he shakily ate the apple, he became aware of the reason the water tasted strange. His head swam and spun until he passed out.

………….

What day was it?

Spinelli sat prone in the corner of the cell, not taking his eyes off the goon that had just entered to bring him a meal. He was a rather large man with glinting eyes and he smiled cockily at Spinelli as though amused at a secret that only he knew. He had no idea that Spinelli was equally amused, and for the same reason. The wire from the padded spring wall he'd ripped out was tightly gripped in his hand. The henchman sat the plate of bread down on the ground. Hesitating for a moment, the man's eyes flashed suddenly and he spit onto the bread with a devious smile. Spinelli grimaced in disgust but held his tongue.

As soon as the man turned his back on him, Spinelli leapt up with all the energy he could muster and jumped on the goon's back, wrapping the wire around his throat. Spinelli hung on as best as he could as the man flailed, backing him roughly into the padded wall. Pain shot through him as his tender ribs were jarred, but Spinelli clung tight.

It was no use though. The man fought off Spinelli's grip and he dropped to the ground. Without giving it a moment's thought, Spinelli raced to the door, wrenched it open and flew out into the cold hallway. He ran as fast as he could in the semi light and bare feet. The heart in his chest beat so fast he thought it would explode and his side felt as though it was ripping open. He had barely moved in days.

With no clue as to where he was going, Spinelli just ran. He knew one thing: if he stayed here, he would die. That was all he could think. Thoughts that whispered in his mind to calm down and think carefully were stomped out by louder thoughts of "GO! GO, NOW! RUN! THIS IS DEATH!"

The thudding of footsteps behind him made him realize that someone was following him. He couldn't run any faster. The fatigue was claiming him just as the footsteps radiated closer to him. His legs felt like he was running in loose sand.

"No no no..." Spinelli mumbled in denial. A hand snatched his hair and yanked him back, giving him whiplash in the process and causing him to buckle to the ground. A second hand grabbed him around the neck, pushing him into the nearest wall. His airway was compressed as Spinelli gazed into the eyes of the goon he'd attacked, there was red blood leaking down his neck from wounds caused by his wire.

"You think you're just going to run out of here? Yeah? You little punk!" He raged, tugging Spinelli's hair by the fistful, contorting his neck awkwardly. Spinelli spit in the man's face, swelling with satisfaction at the blood and the irritation that gleamed on his assailant.

Through the compression on his throat, Spinelli managed to sputter a few words. "You might have c-caught me, but S-stone Cold is going to kick your ass." Spinelli almost laughed, feeling brave and defiant at the mention of his friend. It pleased him to hear the goon growl in frustration as he wiped the spit from his own cheek. A laugh might have escaped him too if the thug hadn't slammed his head into the wall behind him. Spinelli saw stars, and heard only one thing as the world went dark.

"Yeah, we'll see kid."

……………

As Spinelli lay in the dark in those first days, he thought about his life. Much of it had been unbearably bad. His depression had stemmed from that, he knew. But he had thought that he had finally found someone to love him. He cursed Matt for showing up now and taking it all away again.

He thought of Maxie a lot too. She was probably worried about him. At least he hoped she was; he hoped she missed him. He knew that they were never boyfriend and girlfriend… But they had evolved into almost that. People were used to seeing them together. He had thought he had a chance with her. She had kissed him; they had made love. And he loved her, so desperately. He had told Stone Cold. He wished he had told her. Now he may never get the chance.

He had been so ready to end his life - now it seemed someone else was going to do the honors. _Stop it. _He had to keep telling himself that he would get out of this alive. He was going to be fine. Jason was going to find him and end this. Now that his life was out of his own hands, he realized he wanted to live; he was desperate to live. He would get out. He would get a chance to tell Maxie he loved her. And he would this time. He would be brave and he would fight for her, he would win her if it were the last thing he did. He had nothing more to lose.

…….

After a while, he didn't know if it was day or night or how many days had passed. Every now and then, they would leave him a bit of food. Mostly it was a piece of stale bread or a single apple that would have to last him all day. He would eat slowly, trying to make it last, trying to make it fill him. He ate what they gave him though he knew, invariably, he would feel effects of drugs that had been slipped into the food. They made the nightmares even worse. And quickly, the nightmares slipped into his head when he was awake. Spinelli hadn't yet figured out what the point of drugging him was. He didn't plan on asking either.

Today, he had been awakened roughly by a not too gentle kick to the ribs and someone pulling him up by his hair. He was shoved roughly into a chair. His eyes were still focusing on the man in the wheelchair. Spinelli felt as though he were still a little high from the drugs not completely out of his system yet.

"You are going to give us Morgan's account numbers and you are going to do it now! Give him the computer."

Spinelli refused to look them in the eye. They would try to intimidate him. If he could just keep cool, he would last longer. _Stay cool, damn it; stay cool_. He swallowed hard, feeling his jaw quiver as nerves tried to make their way into teeth hell bent on chattering. That fear was what they wanted.

"If you think I am g-going to do anything to help you destroy S-stone Cold, you are crazier than anyone thought." His voice was thick and his mind still felt fuzzy and - _damn it_ - he sounded like a child. His drug induced sleep was hard to shake off and he tried to focus on what everyone was saying but he kept thinking of Maxie and her eyes. It was more pleasant than what was happening and he hated to fight it.

Anthony wheeled himself around on his spot as if casually needing something to do with his hands...as if this were some sort of simple conversation in the park about the weather.

"What is with all the nicknames, by the way? Is that part of your little – _problem_?" Anthony emphasized the word with a phony sense of caring, his brow furrowed in mocking pity. Leaning forward in his chair a little, Anthony spoke very quietly to Spinelli. "You will do as I tell you or I will let Frank here convince you."

Spinelli couldn't help but stare back into the man's gaze, even after promising himself he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of making eye contact. Anthony did not blink. There seemed to be a silent understanding between them in that moment, then Spinelli's breathing hitched quickly in his chest and Anthony took the sign of anxiety as weakness. He wheeled his chair around, heading towards the door. With a quick wave over his shoulder, Anthony found a place in the corner of the room and settled there. Spinelli didn't know why the old man needed this much space.

Before he could wonder any further, Anthony nodded to Frank who took the opportunity to backhand Spinelli across the face. It was a moment before Spinelli felt the pain, he was in so much shock that the action had happened. Frank wore a large ring, which produced a bloody slash across the corner of Spinelli's eye. His head felt as if it would explode. He gasped and tried to compose himself but a nauseous headache had formed and a trickle of blood trailed down the side of his face. He wondered if he already had a concussion.

"Now – do you need more convincing? Or does Frank have to work for his paycheck?" Spinelli weighed the possibilities that Frank would kill him. It was a very good possibility. And Frank, no doubt, would enjoy it. Spinelli tried to think. If he could give them some information, just enough to convince them he was cooperating, then maybe Jason would have time to find him and he would possibly live through this. Spinelli opened the laptop.

"Excellent. See Frank? You have convinced young Mr. Spinelli here that cooperation is a good thing. We can all be friends. And Frank, just to show him we are friends, let's give him something to make it a bit easier."

Frank took out a hypodermic needle filled with a murky liquid and Spinelli's skin crawled.

"This might help with your willingness to do what we want." Anthony smiled evilly.

"W-what's in that?" Spinelli struggled against the large arms that held him in his chair as the needle sunk painfully into the flesh of his arm.

"Just something to calm your nerves." Anthony said in a mockingly soothing tone. "Pretty soon – you will feel nothing."

But Spinelli soon realized Anthony was wrong as fear welled up uncontrollably inside him, he felt as if there was someone crushing his chest, making it impossible to breathe and his hands shook too much to even type.

Spinelli started to gasp, deep in the throws of a panic attack. He saw Jason come in the door but instead of saving him, he pulled a gun on him and shot him in the chest. The pain ripped through his body. He screamed in agony, looking down at himself he saw the crimson life seeping from his body. He was going to die. He could feel himself dying. He would never see Maxie again.

"Damn it Frank! I thought you said you knew what you were doing!"

"It must be the other drugs we gave him – he's not reacting right. It's supposed to chill him out."

"Well, he's no good to us like this. Knock him out with something! And you better pray it doesn't kill him – we're not ready to do that yet."

Spinelli felt another needle sink into his arm and he fell blissfully into darkness.

**Next Chapter: This is how you slowly break a man…**


	6. A Season in Hell

Abandon All Hope

Chapter 6: A Season in Hell

**Author's Note: Yep, another long chapter. I am leaving Iraq (finally!!) and wanted to leave you a nice little dark treat before I left. Seeker and I worked hard on this chapter – it is very, very dark and disturbing. Don't read if you are sensitive. By the way, I hope that you all realize we love Spinelli and don't want him to come to harm – it is just that this is the story we needed to tell.**

**This is the part where we beg for reviews. ;) Please?? With Sugar and Chocolate?**

**Note: A Season in Hell is the title of a literary work by Arthur Rimbaud a French poet in the 19****th**** Century…….. **

Spinelli was woken again by Anthony and his men. They seemed to appear in his dreams now. His drugged consciousness mixed with the crazy dreams and horrifying nightmares to form a kind of constant dreamlike existence.

They put him in the chair and set up a card table and Spinelli wondered what they wanted now. They were already here this morning – was it still today? Maybe it was tomorrow. Maybe he was going back in time – he didn't even know and the thought was fascinating for a minute. In an esoteric sense, it was interesting to think that maybe this was all happening in the future and he was seeing it before it happened. Or maybe it was the future and he was remembering. Time was fluid. What was he supposed to be thinking about? Oh yes, they were speaking to him. Asking him questions. Questions about Jason, which he already knew he wouldn't answer.

"I d-don't know anything." He said robotically, having repeated that line so often.

"You keep saying that but I don't believe you. You know everything there is to know about Morgan's business. Stop playing games."

"The J-Jackal is not p-playing games. He is merely t-trying to be honest."

"Cut him." Anthony said simply.

Frank took out a sharp knife that looked as if it could eviscerate a large mammal. Spinelli's eyes grew large as the second man grabbed and held his arm immobile on the table. He tried to writhe away, to extricate himself from the steel grip holding him down.

"No. no. no. P-please - d-don't do this. Please!" He stared in wide-eyed horror and screamed as the knife sliced into his skin, a long red line of blood followed the trail of the blade. Liquid flowed out like paint down a canvas, an artist's work run away from him. Spinelli began to cry out but a hand wrapped around his mouth, muffling his hiss of pain.

"Shut up." Frank grumbled.

Anthony clicked his tongue. "No, Frank, don't muzzle the sweet puppy…we want to be sure he can speak if he chooses to bark."

Spinelli didn't understand. Were they serious? They were just going to carve him up until he broke down?

"I can't concentrate with him cryin' out like that. You want him to survive this right?"

"Frank – don't get smart with me!" Anthony snapped back.

Frank glared at Anthony and Spinelli was so mesmerized by this odd exchange that he didn't notice when the demented man dug the knife across the flesh of his prey without even without even looking. Frank's stare was still intent on Anthony, as if cutting a human was no more interesting to him than cutting paper dolls.

"Aaaahh!" He exclaimed, trying to jerk away.

Anthony grinned. "Speak puppy! Speak!" He laughed.

Closing his eyes, Spinelli grit his teeth to distract himself from the cold blade slicing his skin and the contrasting sensation of heat from his own blood running down his arms. His breath came in shuddering gasps as he fought off a wave of nausea.

"What is Jason's favorite drink?" Anthony pondered out loud.

Spinelli blinked softly, trying to fight back tears. _What? What in the hell was this madman asking about that for?_ He voiced his confusion aloud, not even meaning to. The old man leaned forward in his wheel chair and repeated the question, cold eyes burning into him with their twisted delight.

"Does he like tea? Coffee? Coffee probably….they do have that coffee shop. He drinks though, right? Probably whiskey…maybe vodka."

"W-what does S-stone Cold's beverage of choice have t-to do with anything?"

"Get to know thine own enemy." He said cryptically.

Spinelli was about to respond, or perhaps not - he didn't really know anymore what he was doing, but the sticky blade flit quickly across his skin again. "Stop!" He begged.

"Oh. Okay. We'll stop. You're going to tell us everything we want to know without having to cut it out of you, right?" Anthony asked, a knowing smile on his face.

Of course he wasn't – they knew it – he wasn't going to answer their questions, and they weren't going to leave without something, be it information or his blood on the soles of their shoes.

"Please. Please – l-let me go." Spinelli begged with a sense of hopelessness, realizing for the first time how truly bad off he was. It seemed to hit him all at once. There was no exit, no rescue, not in the foreseeable future, and it was going to hurt. He begged God or whatever higher power was in existence. He begged silently, in that moment, for them NOT to do what he knew they would, without hesitation: Break him.

"But you just got here." Frank murmured, softly petting his victim's hair like he would a beloved pet. He then crushed the metal of the knife deeper into his flesh than he had already. Spinelli screamed, feeling his arm explode in pain.

Frank continued to cut him as Spinelli screamed, slowly carving shallow lines across his arm until Anthony held up his hand.

"Are you going to answer my questions or not?"

He shook his head slowly, disbelieving what was happening. "I t-told – you – I d-don't know - anything." He replied, his words broken between agonized pants. His eyes were drawn to the blood as it dripped down his arm onto the table.

"Mr. Spinelli – _why_ must you make _everything_ harder than it has to be – for all of us?"

Frank grabbed Spinelli and ripped his tee shirt over his head exposing his chest. The second henchman pulled his bloody arms behind his back pinning him to the chair so he was unable to move or resist. Frank stared at the white flesh and cleared his throat a little too loudly.

"Get to it Frank." Anthony growled impatiently.

Spinelli's horror grew. Were they going to kill him now? Gut him like a deer? Leave him bleeding on the floor to be found in a few months, a rotting corpse? "Please. D-don't. I'm telling the t-truth. I swear I d-don't know anything!" He shook his head desperately.

"See, now, I know you are lying to me - because you are Morgan's most trusted employee. He trusts you above all others. So, I know you know everything. And you will tell us – eventually. Just make it easier on yourself. All I want to know is his favorite drink – why can't you tell me that one little thing?"

"B-because that's not what you want to know – you don't care about Stone Cold's favorite beverage. You want me to answer you so you will know if I'll cooperate. And I won't. I don't know anything that can help you – and even if I did, I would never tell you anything." Spinelli knew he was ordering his own death by saying that. But he knew he could never, would never betray Jason. Not to keep them from cutting him, not even to save his own life. What would he have to go back to? He would never be able to look at Jason again. And he would never be worthy of Maxie if he was coward enough to betray his best friend.

"You already betrayed your friend by draining those accounts. What's the difference if you tell me this?"

"It was a set-up." Spinelli tried to look triumphant, but the pain was too intense. "A message to Stone Cold. I would never betray him. He knows that. He knows I'm alive by now and he'll find me."

Anthony smiled. "Mr. Spinelli. Did you ever stop to think that maybe that is exactly what I _want_? If you were dead, Morgan would grieve and get over it. If you are alive, he will be searching for you – distracted, worried. Yes. You did exactly what I wanted. I thought you were supposed to be a genius." He chuckled. "So smart yet so naïve. Interesting combination. Like a brilliant child."

Spinelli's head swam. He shouldn't have done it. He shouldn't have signaled Jason. Now he would be distracted and vulnerable to Anthony's attack. How could he be so stupid? Of course that was what he wanted.

"Now, are you going to answer my question?"

Spinelli shook his head, knowing what it meant. His brain was telling him to be brave, take the pain, it would all be over soon. Be brave like Jason would be. He would be dead soon and the pain would be gone. But then Frank drew the knife slowly across his ribs, and Spinelli felt the cold blade slice into the bones and skin, leaving another trail of blood.

"NO!! No! No! No! Oh God!" as if that would stop anything.

His own screams terrified him, they sounded like a wild animal, an animal that was coming to rip the rest of his flesh away, exposing the bones and sinew. The screams were caused by more than physical pain. His mind and soul were being destroyed. He could feel them slipping away from him, slowly.

As his body was being repetitively cut, his screams died out and his mind drifted away.

_Maxie's face came closer to his as he realized she was about to kiss him. Surely he was hallucinating. But he felt her lips against his and his world came crashing around his ears. He almost laughed from joy. He was all right. Maxie was here now and everything would be ok._

_But, too soon he felt her pull away. No! Please!! Come back – I need you. Don't go! Please! I love you. _

He felt the horrifying pain return.

"Enough!" Anthony ordered. The men released him and his head lolled back in exhaustion. He stared blankly at the ceiling as tears slowly leaked from the corners of his eyes down the sides of his face and onto the floor.

Frank pushed him off the chair onto the ground. He just lay there, defeated as another syringe was plunged into his arm.

"You are strong willed Mr. Spinelli. Don't for a minute think that is a good thing. It will only make things that much harder for you. You will do what I want you to do – eventually." Anthony wheeled out of the room.

The men gathered up the bloody table and chair and left him, shutting off the light again as they left. His shaking hands hesitantly went to his chest; he could feel the blood, sticky and warm, oozing from the spider web of cuts.

_You are theirs now. _

"I'd know it!"

"Know what?" Jason asked distractedly. He sat staring at a stack of papers Max had brought him – they made no sense to him. Spinelli usually walked him through all the research and he didn't know where to start. Maxie had been hanging around all morning pacing and driving him crazy. But he didn't have the heart to tell her to leave. Besides, he felt closer to Spinelli with her there.

"I'd know it, if he was dead, I'd know it!" She wrung her hands.

Jason looked up at her, shocked.

"Don't look at me like that Jason. I would, wouldn't I? I mean...you can't be a guy like him...as...as amazing as him...and just d-di...go...without feeling him leave, right?"

"I - don't know, Maxie."

"Some friend you are. You searched high and low looking for Sonny's kids when they were kidnapped, you used Spinelli countless times to find things that _you_ needed, and now that _he_ is the one gone you are just giving up?"

"I'm not giving _up_—" He shoved away from the desk and went to pour himself a cup of coffee just to have something to do with his hands.

"Then why the hell are you _here_ doing _nothing_?"

"I – "

"What Jason – _what_?!" She was so frustrated with his uncommunicative nature that she could kill him.

"It's a lot harder to do this without him here. " He said quietly. But they both knew he wasn't just speaking about the tech support.

"He can help anyone...but no one can help him." She teared up.

"Maxie, I have my people working on it. _I_ am working on it. I will _not_ stop looking for him until we find him...dead or alive. I can promise you that."

"He's _not_ dead!"

"You know that in your heart?"

"Yes."

"Then trust your instincts."

Maxie nodded.

"Bernie, I don't have time to talk about the books right now."

"I know you are really distracted about the kid disappearing, but look, Mr. Morgan, there are some numbers here that aren't adding up."

"I said I don't have time. Max thinks he has a lead, I need to go after it."

"Two minutes, please. He's been gone two weeks...

Jason glared at Bernie.

"Two minutes. Look – " Bernie opened the file on the desk for Jason to see. "- you need to see this."

"What?"

"Two accounts, one in Switzerland, one in the Caymans...empty."

Jason looked closer at the accounts Bernie pointed to, suddenly interested. "The big accounts?"

"No. In fact, it's not even accounts I was aware we had until I started the internal audit. Look - this one – " He pointed to the spreadsheet. "- was just drained of half a million...and this one -" He pointed to another. "- a quarter million. I don't know what it is, Jason...maybe it's a small group of thugs or something...trying to run a scam. But, like I said, they're trying to keep it under the radar. I wouldn't have noticed it really if I hadn't been doing my monthly check."

"Wait a minute...Those are the accounts...the ones Spinelli set up."

"What do you mean?"

"I completely forgot about it until now. He set these accounts up specifically – to let me know if anything happened to him. He said that if he was in any danger from my enemies, it would be for one reason – to use him to get to my business. He said if any of these accounts were touched, it would be a signal. He and I were the only ones to know about this."

"You think he's alive?"

"Yeah...I think he's alive...and someone is making him get into my accounts. He is using these to signal me. Look at some of these smaller transactions - 9.11? 911? That is typical Spinelli stuff." Jason almost shouted in relief.

"I think you're seeing ghosts, Jason...if they were making him steal from you, they'd make him take more. Or maybe this is the tip of the iceberg. Maybe he ran off and is stealing from you himself. You shouldn't rule that out."

"If that were the case, why _these_ specific accounts? The ones _he_ set up? He would have taken money from somewhere else. He could do that and we wouldn't notice until it was too late. No way. I know him Bernie. Spinelli doesn't give a damn about power and money."

"I do trust your instincts Mr. Morgan. I just want you to be cautious."

"Then trust me in this – he's sending a message. Someone is holding him and he is signaling me. He's smart, Bernie. He also wouldn't want to take too much from me...I'm telling you."

"Do you think they're keeping him locked up somewhere in Orange County?"

"Orange County?"

"The account drains are originating in Orange County, California. That's the only paper trail."

"It's him again – Orange County – orange? Orange soda." Jason smiled a little. "You don't leave a paper trail with a scam like this unless you want to leave a clue. He wanted to make sure we knew it was _him_. Bernie...he just gave us proof that he is alive. It's not much...But it's something."

Spinelli lay on the floor of the cell, he tried to sleep, but the terror kept overtaking his thoughts. He rationed the food that they brought him when they felt like it. It wasn't much – barely enough to keep him alive. He had once read up on interrogation techniques and torture. This was what they did, they got you to depend on them and then you would be grateful for any little thing – even if it was a piece of stale bread. Then they could get you to open up to them. But he knew their game and he would resist.

But they were not playing fair, they were slipping him all sorts of drugs - and each time he ate, he knew that more drugs were hidden inside the food. Sometimes, they seemed to have effects that could make him sleepy or take away all the pain and feelings. He didn't mind that so much. Sometimes though, the feelings would be so bad that he wished he would die. Anything would be better than the terrors that visited him when his mind was washed in random chemicals.

The monsters would enter the room then. Sometimes scary, campfire monsters with claws and teeth and they would rip the flesh from his bones and he would scramble and cower away like an infant. Sometimes - a man would come in with a knife and split him open from neck to stomach and his life would pour out on the floor.

In his lucid moments, he knew that it was part of their plan and he was not going to allow them to get the upper hand. But the lucid moments were getting to be few and far in between. The horrors came from within his own mind. The drugs were dredging up flashes of a past he thought he had buried. He tried not to think but it was a torrent of memories sometimes so strong that it left him breathless and curled in a terrified ball.

His thoughts were of a little boy - a little boy too small, too timid, talking like a skipping record – they told him that he was going to the hospital and then they locked him in a room like this one; a scary room that the little boy couldn't get out of. There were no toys, no books, nothing. The little boy stared at the walls and let his mind tell him stories where he was always the hero.

The door opened and his stomach knotted.

"Spinelli? Hey! Wake up!"

Spinelli looked up at the door and his heart leaped. Maxie had come in and was beaming at him. He knew he was saved. Jason couldn't be far behind.

"Oh my God, what did they do to you?"

"You're here? How are you here?" He reached out to touch her beautiful face.

"I'm here to save you Spinelli, it's all over, I promise."

Maxie tugged at the ropes binding his hands, trying to free them.

Spinelli's head felt clearer already. "How did you find me?"

Maxie grimaced. "Less talking, more escaping." But just then, Spinelli felt footsteps radiating through the floor. In an instant, Spinelli saw Frank appear behind Maxie, the flash of a blade at her throat was all the warning he got.

Maxie didn't even see it coming.

"NO!" Spinelli bellowed.

Maxie lay on the floor, a slash of red at her throat and a gruesome puddle beneath her. Her empty eyes stared up at him.

Spinelli woke in a cold sweat.

The door opened and his stomach knotted.

"Mr. Spinelli? Hey! Wake up!" A harsh voice growled and he felt a kick to his tender ribs.

"We're gonna play a little game today Sunshine." Frank entered the room with a tray full of needles, bottles of pills and a revolver.

Anthony Zacchara was wheeled in the door. "Mr. Spinelli. Good morning. Or is it afternoon? You don't even know, do you? Do you know how long you have been our guest?"

Spinelli looked at him blankly, he didn't know what he was asking. It was a trick question – any answer would exact retribution, that much he knew. The one answer that would sometimes keep him from getting hit was his silence.

"You know the game of Russian Roulette?" Anthony asked. The goons laughed like it was a birthday party. One of them lifted him off the floor by his arm and forced him into the chair they had set in the middle of the room.

"I am going to ask you for some information. And you are going to give it to me." He nodded to Frank who picked up a syringe and plunged it into his shoulder. Spinelli yelped in pain and stared at the ceiling as the fire rushed through the muscle and into his system.

Colors spotted and swirled in front of his eyes; each of the men had a mustard yellow aura surrounding them. A dull ache settled in the base of his skull and the nausea returned.

Frank held the revolver to his temple. Anthony calmly spoke "I need you to confirm a deep, dark secret of Morgan's."

"I" Spinelli swallowed, trying to clear the dry scratchiness that seemed to have settled permanently into his throat in the past few days. "I – won't t-tell you anything." He could barely hear his own voice.

Anthony nodded and Frank pulled the trigger. At the sound of the hammer slamming against metal Spinelli's body jerked and his breath broke in gasps.

Anthony laughed. "I thought you _wanted_ to die Mr. Spinelli! Isn't that why you were in the loony bin where we found you? What's the matter? The reality of death too _scary_? Aaawwwww. Well let's try this again and maybe you won't die tonight. Mr. Morgan and Elizabeth Webber. That kid of hers – is he Morgan's?"

"No!"

Anthony nodded again and there was another metallic pop at his temple. He held his breath and tried to calm the terrified sobs in his chest. The hair stood up on his arms and bile rose in his throat.

Anthony glared at him for a moment, sighing. Suddenly, with a great burst of energy for a man that was supposed to be crippled, he lurched his wheelchair forward and yanked the pistol out of Frank's hand, grabbing whatever chunk of Spinelli's hair that he could reach from his head. Spinelli felt his neck pop as the old man yanked him closer to him, almost pulling him out of the chair. He wondered briefly if it was possible that this man wasn't as handicapped as he acted.

But that question flitted out of his mind as soon as cold metal clinked against his front teeth. A copper taste flooded his mouth as he realized that Anthony had busted his lip in an attempt to fit the pistol in his mouth.

"Want to know what a bullet tastes like, Mr. Spinelli?"

Spinelli froze, not even breathing.

"Bang." Anrhony whispered.

Anthony pulled the pistol away from his mouth. He tapped Spinelli on the nose with the end of the gun, the acrid smell of gun oil filling his nostrils with each graze.

"I don't think you understood the question," Anthony spoke mockingly, tapping him on the nose with each word. "So, I will ask you again. Is Jacob Martin Spencer, Morgan's _kid_?!"

Still, Spinelli said nothing. He would not betray Jason. Not even to save his own life.

Another clink. He flinched again, then hung his head praying for it all to end – for the terror to stop. If they were going to kill him, he wished they would do it and stop playing with him.

"Well, Mr. Spinelli, I think you answered my question anyway. I know what I needed to know. Next time you may not be so lucky."

He closed his eyes and his mind slipped into a dream of Maxie, beautiful Maxie, laughing and teasing him. She was sitting next to him in the coffee shop and was stealing his chocolate muffin. She was kissing him and calling his name.

A horrible pain tore through his left wrist and it ripped him from his reverie. He shouted in pain and cradled his arm against his ribs trying to protect himself from further assault. He realized that Frank had been trying to get his attention and his wrist was now probably broken.

"Damn it Frank! I need him to be able to _type_ for Crissakes!"

"He still has another hand." Frank replied grudgingly. He opened a bottle of pills shook out a few and forced them into Spinelli's mouth. Slowly, the burning sensation in his wrist and the dull ache in his muscles from the bruises all over him disappeared. His breathing slowed and his eyes grew dull.

"Frank – I think we need to pick up a little medical help for Sunshine." Anthony smiled.

**Next: When he is forced to make a terrible choice, what will Spinelli do??**


	7. The Games People Play

**Abandon All Hope**

**Chapter 7: The Games People Play**

**Author's Note: I am so happy to be out of Iraq. But on the same note, I am dealing with getting back to my "normal" life, which is harder than I thought it would be. I am so grateful to all my friends that I have met on-line not the least of which are my co-author SEEKER-2000, and my buddies "G" and Nami. You are part of the reason that I write. Am I sappy? I don't know. **

**This is pretty intense chapter. I keep tweaking it because I want it to be perfect for you all and Spinelli, I apologize if it is not. This is a very personal project for us. Please – as always, reviews are so very much appreciated. The story was started before some of the reveals on the show such as Matt's relationship to Patrick – we are definitely taking artistic license with a lot of it. Let us know how you like it.**

Elizabeth struggled to see through the blindfold as panic welled up inside her but she fought not to scream. The unseen hands that roughly held her shoved her forward and she nearly fell. A door slammed and a lock clicked behind her. She realized the kidnapper had left her alone. Quickly pulling off the folded fabric covering her eyes, she looked around at the room. It was shabby and looked like an old office. There was a desk, a chair and some cabinets on the walls. It was dimly lit. She heard a noise and looked towards it. A figure slumped in the corner, his back to her; it was Spinelli. For a moment she was relieved. Maybe he would be able to protect her. Then she realized by his posture that something was wrong. She moved towards him.

"Spinelli? Thank G -" Elizabeth stopped when she saw his face "Oh my God! Spinelli, can you hear me?" She brushed the hair out of his bruised face. "Hey – hey, sweetie. Are you alright?"

Spinelli looked up at her dazed. "M-maternal One?"

"Yeah - it's me. Are you OK?"

He looked around at the unfamiliar room, trying to figure out where he was. "Am I home? I'm home? oh...no." He said in a defeated voice. "Not home. Not home." He looked up at Elizabeth. "Um - what is the Maternal One d-doing here? S-stone Cold is not here right now..."

"I don't know. They brought me here - they said someone needed medical help. Do you need my help Spinelli?"

Spinelli thought for a minute...and then held up his useless wrist. "Yes I...I need help…..c-can you help?"

"Oh...Spinelli...what have they done to you?" She searched his face. Elizabeth took his arm gently and examined it. She knew it was broken and need to be set. She looked around and realized they had left a pathetic excuse for a 1st aid kit. She rummaged through it and found a few ace bandages. Elizabeth wrapped his wrist and dressed some of the deeper cuts on his arms and chest.

"Maximista – d-do you know I love you? W-why did you leave me? Why did you get s-scared after we made love?"

"Sweetie – it's me – Elizabeth."

"M-maternal One?" His eyes cleared again. "Why did you leave S-stone Cold? He loves you - he is in p-pain all the time. Not like Maximista and me – she does not love me. D-o you love S-stone Cold? Do you?"

"Yes, I still love him."

"You m-must go tell him – g-go - right now." He mumbled. He rubbed his eyes and then looked around. He shuffled to the corner and then curled up again. Elizabeth realized this had become his comfort zone. Sleeping in the corner in order to keep the room in front of him – so that no one could sneak up on him.

She swiped at her eyes wondering what was going to happen to the both of them. She decided to get some rest herself and went to the corner to curl up next to him.

Spinelli jumped as if just realizing something. He became agitated and started looking around him.

"Spinelli – what's wrong?"

"Wrong?" Spinelli continued to search around the room. "I d-don't - I don't know where it went…" he said in a small confused voice.

"What Spinelli? Where what went?"

"I think they t-took it - my laptop. I need it. S-stone Cold told me he needs me to look s-something up. It has to be around here...where is it??"

"OK - calm down." Elizabeth petted his shoulder trying to comfort him.

"NO! It has m-my life on it...my whole life..."

"It's OK Spinelli." She said as she tried to calm him.

Spinelli held her hands gently but firmly and looked in her eyes, his were scared, wild. "You d-don't understand!!! T-they will know everything!!"

Elizabeth had noticed the little bruised circles all over his arms when she had been bandaging him up. As a nurse, she knew what needle marks looked like better than anyone and was horrified at how many there were. He looked like a drug addict. Gently, she touched one but he pulled back, frightened.

"Spinelli, what are these?"

"No - you mustn't – d-don't touch." He shuffled back to the corner and sat down.

"Spinelli are those needle marks?"

Spinelli started pulling at the hem of his fraying shirt "No. no. no. no......"

"Spinelli? They are aren't they? Are they injecting you with drugs?""

"D-damian can't tell you that. No…..Yes…..No….Sometimes." He poked at one of the circles himself as if he was fascinated.

"Sometimes what?"

"Sometimes n-needles. S-sometimes little white pills." He replied in a singsong voice. He giggled sadly. "It is a surprise, always a s-surprise. Sometimes it is g-good and I am happy. Sometimes.....I - I don't want to talk ab-bout that though. Can we talk about good things now?"

"Spinelli - you need to tell me what they have been giving you."

"Don't know..." he pressed a circle. "D-different things I think."

"What does it feel like?"

"This one felt really…really....nice. This one m-made me really – confused. This one….she came in m-my dreams and I was scared. They make my d-dreams so scary." He looked up at her like a scared little boy. "I don't….I don't want to die, tell S-stone Cold –tell him I just w-wanted the s-sadness to go away. Tell him I'm s-sorry."

Even though Jason had not spoken to her about it, she knew that Spinelli had been admitted to the psychiatric ward for a suicidal gesture. "Oh...Spinelli...You were in the hospital before this, weren't you?

"....Fair Elizabeth...."

"What Spinelli?"....

"I feel...everything. Help me – p-please."

"I'm going to try."

"I – don't know what is real." She pulled him close and he fell asleep.

****

Claudia shook her head at the newspaper story on Spinelli's disappearance. He wasn't important like Sonny or Jason so it was buried on page six. It said he was missing and presumed dead. The thought of it was impossible. "I don't think he's dead."

Johnny poured himself a cup of coffee "What makes you say that?"

"I don't know John - I just feel it."

"If it makes you feel better - I don't think he's dead either."

"What do you mean? You have the same feeling?"

"No - it was something dear old Dad said this morning."

"What did he say?" Claudia's heart started beating faster.

"He mentioned that Spinelli admired my music. Where would he get a comment like that from?"

"You think he has him? That he took him to get to Jason?"

"_Yeah_ I think he took him. It is just like the old man to use an innocent to get to the boss. But he sure wouldn't tell either one of us – he knows we would just go to Morgan about it."

"John – this is the break Jason has been looking for. Look – you need to keep an eye on dad – he knows I hate him and don't trust him. You – he'll love it if you start cozying up to him. See what you can find out – but don't make it too obvious."

"OK, I can do that. You gonna tell Morgan?"

"Yeah – I'll let him know you are going to keep an eye on Anthony and will let us know if you get any information. And John? We need to do it quick. There's no telling how long he'll keep him alive."

*****

When Spinelli awoke, his head was in Elizabeth's lap and she was stroking his hair. She had been trying to get some rest when she heard his breathing start to become labored. He had been crying and talking in his sleep about someone named Mama Clara - she did not sound like a kind, motherly figure.

Spinelli was still sleepy from the drugs they had given him earlier but he seemed happier than before and also seemed to be enjoying her attention. He gazed at her face and smiled dreamily.

"You know, M-maternal One. If I was not in love with Maximista and you were not in love with S-stone Cold, I could fall in love with you..." He said in a soft voice. "Would you fall in love with me?"

"Spinelli." She continued to pet his head. "You are very sweet."

"But you only think of m-me as a friend, right? It is the same story all the time…no one thinks of The J-jackal as anything more than a friend....b-but he loves deeply."

"You don't think of _me_ as more than a friend do you?" she smiled.

"No..." He smiled too. "No...besides....S-stone Cold would kill me....I had a crush on S-samantha and Stone Cold didn't seem to like that very much at all......Sam seemed to like it but S-stone Cold did not. No – I am afraid Stone Cold would never approve. And b-besides, Maximista holds my heart….But you are very pretty."

"You are very pretty too Spinelli."

"Thank you Fair Elizabeth."

"You are very welcome."

"Though I fear I am a bit worse for wear. I apologize for my appearance." His mind seemed to be wandering and his eyes closed again. The drugs had not entirely worn off.

She smiled sadly down at him. "Spinelli - I could probably love you if Jason were not in the picture."

"Stone Cold loves you a lot.....you should m-marry him"

"I think I would like that, Spinelli."

"Why d-don't you? Then your t-two little dudes and you could move in and w-we could be a big happy family…..I want a family – s-so bad..."

"Do you have any family Spinelli?"

His eyes opened. "N-not anymore.....not anymore...M-matty - well he's..."

"Who's Matty?"

"No. No - I d-don't want to talk about that…..we were talking ab-bout how pretty you are....." His eyes close dreamily. "S-stone Cold is my family now. I thought maybe Maximista…but no.….If y-you and S-stone Cold get married - can I babysit?"

"Umm - sure Spinelli."

"I could t-teach Cameron to hack....little Krissy was g-good at it…I always wanted a little b-brother......Elizabeth?"

"Yes?"

"D-do you think I will ever g-get married? I would like a s-son... a little boy....I would take g-good care of him....I wouldn't ever let anyone be m-mean to him...not ever."

"Why would...."

"Maybe someone will l-love me someday…maybe Maximista…and w-we will have a little boy…..I will t-take care of him….not like ……" Spinelli's voice drifted off and when he spoke again it was nearly a whisper. "It's n-not fair what they did to him...he was little…..just - just a little boy."

"Did what Spinelli? To who??"

"I told you I d-didn't want to talk about that...." He opened his eyes and touched her face. ".....so pretty."

"Spinelli..."

"No. I c-can't talk about him."

"...Did something happen to you?"

"I just want to go home....C-can we go now? I am cold. We should go b-before they come back....S-stone Cold and Maximista are waiting." He crawled to his feet.

"Spinelli - we - we can't - we're locked in."

His eyes grew alarmed. "No - no - you have to l-leave!" He began to tug at her arms as if to make her leave. "They will hurt you - you d-don't know what they do - they do –t-terrible things – they cut me with a kn-knife - they give me needles that hurt and m-make me feel bad! Fair Elizabeth - you must g-go. Tell S-stone Cold that the Jackal is in need of assistance! He w-will help us if you tell him to."

"Us?" Elizabeth was confused as to who he was talking about.

"We n-need him - we are cold and tired - we c-cannot take much more…you must go…b-before we are gone." He searched her eyes for help.

"Spinelli - you aren't making sense."

"No - I am Damian….not S-spinelli."

"Not Spinelli?? I don't – I don't understand."

"My d-dead mother named me. Why would I want to be called something else?" Spinelli started rubbing his head like the thoughts were hurting him. "OK...ok...ok." He whispered to himself as if someone is talking to him "YES!! OK!" He looked back at her. "How long have I b-been here?"

"You - you have been here for 2 weeks."

"I'm c-confused. I was home yesterday....or was that - tomorrow? Am I g-going home tomorrow? I need to be home…."

"Spinelli?"

"No - not Spinelli. Not Spinelli, Not JACKAL - stupid, stupid name - like a superhero - what kind of superhero gets locked up in a loony bin? Stupid kid - always talking -always _talking_. Can't shut up – can't ever stop talking - even when I tell him to. He just keeps chattering away in that stupid voice - I have to hide him - he is a little freak...and when mama has people over I tell him to shut up so he doesn't get into trouble - but he can't sit still - can't _ever_ just sit still and be quiet - so we all get into trouble…I tell him and tell him - be quiet - talk normal - but he can't - he is too little to listen. Maybe if he lets me talk for a while, people will think he is ok..."

"Spinelli? You need to calm down. It's ok. It's ok." She stroked his head trying to soothe him.

Spinelli looked at her again and his eyes focused. "M-maternal One? Elizabeth?"

"Yeah. Yeah – it's me."

Spinelli let out a choked sob. "I - need help."

"I know…I know sweetie - we're going to get you help. You need to lie down now though, ok, try to relax and rest." Elizabeth coaxed him to sit back down and she began to rub his back. He fell back into a fitful sleep and Elizabeth watched him. She made a silent prayer that Jason would find the two of them before it was too late.

****

"Maybe you're just fooling yourself - you need to be realistic and accept that he could be dead." Matt glowered.

Maxie slapped him across the face; he looked at her, shocked.

"Don't you ever – EVER - say that again." She hissed. "You think you are being realistic when you say things like that - but all you are is cruel. Spinelli doesn't need reality right now - he needs hope."

"I'm sorry – I'm not trying to be cruel – really. You're - probably right." Matt shook his head. "I'm sorry." He finished in a whisper.

"You say that like - "

"What?"

"I don't know - like you are sorry for something else."

"What else would I be sorry for?" He asked as he averted his eyes.

"Nothing - look - I have to go - I have to meet with Jason."

"You shouldn't hang out with that guy."

"First Mac - now you? You have no say in who I'm friends with."

"You're _friends_ with Morgan now?" Matt clutched at Maxie's arm.

"It's none of your business." Maxie said with a firm yank of her arm.

Matt watched Maxie walk out of Kelly's and cursed himself for the hundredth time. For being a jerk and not meaning to; for lying to everyone when it could possibly help his brother; for simply being the chosen son.

*****

Spinelli and Elizabeth held each other close. They had never known each other very well before but the thought of what might await them had made them partners, friends, comrades-in-arms. Elizabeth had been shocked when she had first seen Spinelli but now realized it was so much worse than cuts and bruises. His mind seemed to have started to break. He had been talking strangely, not his usual strange way but in a defeated and otherworldly way. As if his very personality had splintered.

"Maternal One.... I c-can't think...how long have I been here?" He asked again as if he had forgotten he had asked her before.

"About 2 weeks now. Jason and Maxie are worried sick. We need to get you out of here." She looked around.

"No - they are g-going to kill me. I know that now. You need to g-get out... you need to t-try to escape."

"I'm not leaving without you."

"Y-you have to. They'll k-kill you too."

"Shhh … It will be alright."

"Elizabeth, they're g-going to kill you, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry...

"No, shhh....You don't know that." He shook his head sadly. "Spinelli, think about it...they made me wear a blindfold...why would they make me wear a blindfold if they were going to kill me...it's okay, I think we're just hostages...we just need to be patient...."

Spinelli pondered that for a moment. "They d-didn't make _me_ wear a blindfold."

"We are going to be alright – were going to get out of here – you will be alright."

"No - they want you t-to think that... but it will n-never be.....not ever again....it's all gg-one...they are all gone."

"What's gone? Who's gone?"

"S-spinelli and The Jackal - they are gone." He said in a soft, scared voice. "It's just me - all alone…I m-myself alone.... io sol uno. Non isperate mai veder lo cielo: I' vegno per menarvi a l'altra riva ne le tenebre etterne, in caldo e 'n gelo."

"Spinelli I don't understand what you are saying – are you speaking Italian?"

"S-spinelli is not here…..I told you – it is only D-damian. They have left him all by himself like b-before. And you need to get out before it is too late. Go to S-stone Cold. Tell him you love him. B-be with him, let him be Jacob Martin's father while there is t-time. It c-can be over too quickly. Fair Elizabeth – you must go and be with your b-boys and with Stone Cold." His breathing had become rapid again.

"Look, you need to calm down ok? Try to think clearly. You _are_ Spinelli. Don't let them get to you – we need to get out of here."

As Elizabeth was trying to get his mind back on track they heard the door unlock and Anthony and Frank returned. Frank went over to the two of them and pulled Elizabeth away.

"Well, aren't you two cozy?" Anthony purred sarcastically. "I will be sure to let Morgan and Ms. Jones know how sweet you two look together."

Elizabeth's voice shook even as she tried to act defiant "You need to let us go. He needs medical attention – this is not going to end well for anyone. If anything happens to us, Jason will hunt you down."

"Sweetheart. You need to learn to keep your pretty mouth shut. I am trying to be patient with you but it is difficult. As for Morgan, I find that I have a dilemma. You see – Damian here needed medical assistance. We got it for him – out of the kindness of our hearts. The problem arises that you have seen our little game here and now - because we can't let Morgan know how his little pet is getting on – you - must die."

These words penetrated the fog of Spinelli's brain. "No! You c-can't – you can't kill her! It was my fault she was b-brought here! P-please – she has two little boys – please. D-don't hurt her. I'll do anything. P-please."

"Anything? Sunshine - I love that phrase - I really do. But I doubt you _mean_ anything. It is just empty words."

"No – no it's not – let her g-go – I will do anything. She needs to go home to her b-boys."

"OK – hmmm lets see. Frank, this is just too delicious to pass up – is it not? Anything….anything." Anthony started to chuckle. He pulled Elizabeth roughly to his side and trained a pistol at her head. "Kneel down little lady. Let's see if he means it. You too JackalBoy." The two prisoners knelt as they were told, Elizabeth still with a loaded weapon pressed to her skull.

Spinelli's eyes were wide - he couldn't watch the mother of Stone Cold's son die, it would be his fault. He couldn't live with that.

"Frank - come here." He whispered something in Frank's ear and they both chuckled. "Hand him your gun." Frank checked the magazine, snapped it back in place and handed it to Spinelli. He nervously took it and it hung at his side

"OK now – Mr. Nelli, Spinny, Sunshiney Day – we will see just how far you will go to save her. You said anything so – you have a choice to make. It shouldn't be difficult. You want to save her – you said you would do anything. Right?"

"Yes – p-please." He said weakly.

"OK then – I am going to kill her – blow her brains out, the bits will be scattered all over this room. Her babies will never see her again. All you have to do to stop it – is kill yourself."

"……what?" Spinelli croaked as his throat closed up. He hadn't heard him right.

"You heard me right. Take that gun, put it to your temple and pull the trigger. Do it and you save her; refuse and you kill her. Simple…….you _said_ anything."

"Please – " Elizabeth pleaded. "Leave him alone – you – you can't do this."

"I can do anything I like – I'm the one holding the gun to your head. He was gonna do it himself two weeks ago with no encouragement from me - it shouldn't be such a big deal. So – Mr. Jackal…what do you say? I have a lot of things to do today, I am a very busy man."

Spinelli's body had gone numb. It was another game – surely it was a game. They were playing with them. "I – I don't…."

"MR. SPINELLI!!!!!!!" Anthony bellowed making the two prisoners jump. "You have exactly thirty seconds to make your choice!!! What is it going to be!??"

"Wait - wait - I – I c-c-" Spinelli's head swam. He looked at Elizabeth who shook her head at him.

"Don't do it! Spinelli – you can't." Anthony shook Elizabeth to silence her.

"Twenty seconds!! Nineteen! Eighteen! Make your choice!!"

"Please! Don't do this!!" Elizabeth begged Anthony, remembering how he had forced Jason up on the parapet, telling him to jump or she would die. She knew he was serious. "Spinelli – don't - don't! You can't do this!" She tried to pull away from Anthony who held her in his vice grip. "You're insane!" She spat.

"Fifteen! I am getting impatient!" He cocked the hammer of his weapon.

"ok – ok – ok - I will – I will – d – don't hurt her. Please." He whimpered and placed the muzzle to his temple, it was shaking crazily. His heart was threatening to stop – this was it. He was going to die. At least she would be ok – and Jason would forgive him. "J-just let her go. P-please. I'll do it. I'll do it. J-just stop."

"Spinelli!" Elizabeth screamed. "No!! Don't! _Please_ Mr. Zacchara – don't make him do this! We can figure this out! God!" She cried hysterically.

Anthony cocked his pistol and pulled Elizabeth closer. "Do it Day – and this will all be over. Do it NOW!! Five!! Four!! Three!! Two!!"

Spinelli held his breath and closed his eyes. Maxie's face, sweet and beautiful and smiling came to him again. His world grew calm. "Tell Maxie I loved her." He pulled the trigger.

"NO!!!!"

*****

Maxie entered the coffee house and the barista immediately began making her favorite drink. She had been there so much lately, he didn't need to be told what she wanted, or that she shouldn't be charged for it, by order of Mr. Morgan. He handed her the paper cup and she went into the back office.

Knocking but entering without waiting for an answer, she saw that Jason was on the phone. But instead of his usual annoyed look when she barged in, he waved her forward.

"Thanks Claudia. Yeah, keep me posted. I appreciate it."

"What's going on?" Maxie asked as soon as Jason hung up.

"Claudia thinks her father was the one who took Spinelli, which is pretty much what we thought. But Johnny said his father let something slip this morning. He's going to get close to him, try to get him to give up information on where they might be holding him."

"Why don't you just pick up Anthony yourself, threaten him; make him tell you? Isn't that what mobsters do?"

"Because it might be more dangerous for Spinelli if I do that. I am sure he is being guarded and if those guards have been given orders to kill him in the event we do anything like that – well – "

"Yeah." Maxie clutched her coffee worriedly. "So all we can do is wait for Johnny to get something out of his father??"

"Unless we get something else."

Maxie swiped at her eyes angrily. "I just want him back."

**Next chapter: Jason gets horrifying news. How will he react?**

**Reviews, reviews, reviews????????? **


	8. Twisted Games

**Chapter 8 - Twisted Games**

**Author's Note: I apologize for last chapter's lack of delineation – I had it in the original word document but it did not transfer over. I have since fixed it. Also – I am a Liason fan too!! So take that as you will…. ;)**

**And please remember – this is a DARK fic – so if you are squeamish – don't read it – you have been warned several times and there is no need to let us know it is "too dark" – we KNOW it is!! LOL**

**Some people are concerned that it is moving too slowly – we apologize too for that but we have written this in a careful manner and each portion has a reason. The pace isn't going to change because it's all a part of a larger plan and one thing cannot be added or taken away.**

**Rosie and SEEKER**

******************

Spinelli looked at the barrel of the gun, shocked. He had expected a white light; golden gates; St. Peter. Something. Instead, he heard a hollow clunk and Anthony laughing. Spinelli dropped the pistol and braced his hands on the floor.

"You bastards. Why don't you just do it? Kill me. Do it. Get it over with." He said in a dead voice.

Liz was shocked silent. Frank pulled her up off the floor and headed towards the door with her.

"No. NO!" He realized what they intended on doing. "Don't kill her, please, God, I'm sorry!"

Elizabeth had begun crying. She couldn't believe Spinelli had been willing to take his own life to save hers. "Spin, shhh, it's okay." She tried to calm him down. "It's going to be all right."

But Spinelli knew it wouldn't be all right. He knew the evil they were capable of. "No! Please don't take her! Kill me! Kill me instead!" He tried to pull Elizabeth from Frank's grip but he was not strong enough. Frank pushed him roughly away and he fell to the ground.

He crawled toward Anthony, cradling his now aggravated wrist, and begged his captor to leave Elizabeth alone. "Let her go – please. Mr. Zacchara. She has kids. I have nothing." Spinelli swatted his own chest roughly. "Kill me instead! Please Mr. Zacchara!"

Anthony paused and made a strange face. For a moment, Spinelli believed his begging might have worked. However, Anthony ignored his protests and wheeled himself out the door, following Frank and Elizabeth. As the door closed, Spinelli fell against it, frantic. He tried to peer through the cracks around the doors but could not see anything. "Please. Please." He clawed at the door trying to get it open - to beg one more time for mercy. He could do nothing for her but he could hear everything.

"We blindfolded you because...well...the place is a wreck, I didn't want you to see how bad our housekeeping is." Anthony purred in mock graciousness. Spinelli pounded his fist against the door and cried out again, as if this time his declaratio n would matter.

"Jason is going to find out and you are going to be dead." Elizabeth tried to appeal to their sense of self-preservation

"Frank...she's annoying me."

There wasn't even much of a pause between this statement before Spinelli heard a thunderous crack. There was silence, and his blood chilled. It took him a moment to react to what had happened.

"NO!" He snarled.

"ELIZABETH! I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to do this to you...SHE HAD KIDS! SHE HAD TWO LITTLE BOYS! You _bastards_! You _killed_ her! _I_ killed her, oh GOD she's DEAD!" He collapsed on the floor again.

**************************

Matt glanced down at his watch and wished his shift was over. It was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on his work whilst sitting back and not contributing to the search to find his little brother. Matt couldn't decide if coming forward about their familial connection would help or hinder anything. A part of him knew he was only being selfish in wishing their blood bond had some significance. In reality, it did n't matter at all.

He clicked his pen absentmindedly as he looked over a chart. The ding of the nearby elevator grabbed his attention as it had been a rather quiet day all around. One of those Zacchara fellows stepped forward and headed towards the station with a blonde Matt had seen around the hospital on occasion.

"Excuse me, doctor?" The dark haired Zacchara approached him. Matt sighed.

"Yes?"

"I have a question concerning some medication…"

"I don't do hallway consultations," Matt quipped, closing his folder with a snap. If this guy figured he could talk a doctor into scoring him some pills just because he was in with some mob family he had another thing coming.

"Hey, I just want to ask you a simple question," he retorted.

"Johnny, let's just find Patrick…" the blonde interrupted.

"What is the issue?" Matt sighed again, realizing it would be easier just to get these two out of the hospital as quick as he could.

"Morphine, oxycoton, and vicodin." The Zacchara stated blunt ly.

"Pain meds. What about them?"

"Would someone typically take all three of them at the same time?"

Matt was finally intrigued. "There is no typical patient…but…it's unlikely. You'd run the risk of overdose…"

Johnny nodded his head. "Okay. So…hypothetically speaking…if you overheard someone discussing all three of those medications in regards to one person…One would assume it's not an average, everyday case?"

Matt agreed. "Care to elaborate?" This was some sort of mob activity, Matt was sure.

The Zacchara shook his head no and grabbed the blonde's hand, heading back towards the elevator briskly. Matt watched them huddle together as the doors closed. He wondered what that was all about.

******************

Frank held his hand over Elizabeth's mouth and chuckled. They could hear Spinelli's screams as they dragged her struggling body away.

Elizabeth tried to get her mouth free – to yell something – _anything_ so Spinelli would know she was still alive. Anthony put a finger to his lips and leaned towards her.

"We're trying to drive him coo-coo crazy." He whispered. "Thanks for the help."

Elizabeth's eyes grew wide taking in the insane smile on Anthony's face as she was dragged further away from the room where they held Spinelli and she was blindfolded again.

"You're going to kill me now aren't you?"

Frank gave her an odd look. "Why would we blindfold you if we were going to kill you? That's just silly."

"You - you're letting me go?"

"We're letting you go." Anthony confirmed. "You've been a great help to us."

"And Spinelli?" She asked, already knowing the answer.

"He's not leaving; we're having too much fun."

"I'm going to tell Jason." She said, realizing too late that it probably was a mistake to remind him of that.

Anthony smiled evilly. "I really, really hope you do Ms. Webber. It doesn't matter. By the time he finds his friend...there won't be anything left...Make sure he knows if _anything_ happens to me...If Frank calls me and I don't answer my phone after the second ring - the kid is dead. He's dead anyway – but he'll just speed up the inevitable."

"Why are you doing this?" Elizabeth stared incredulously at the old man, completely confused about his motives or logic.

"Secrets, secrets are so fun…" Anthony chuckled. "They are fun for everyone."

**************

"Jason!" Elizabeth burst through the door to Jason's office, not bothering to knock, having no time to wait for the answer.

"Elizabeth? What's wrong?" He jumped up from his desk, seeing the look of terror on her face.

Elizabeth fell into Jason's arms and he could feel her shaking uncontrollably. "Anthony Zacchara and his men have Spinelli."

"What?" Jason's brow furrowed and his heart skipped a beat. He hadn't been expecting that. "How do you know that?"

"Jason – they kidnapped me. I was going to pick up the boys at daycare and they grabbed me."

He pushed her away from him to examine her, raking his eyes over her body for signs of injury with a fury. There was smudge of blood on her scrubs.

"Are you OK?"

"Yes. I'm fine now."

"Where is he? Is he - OK?"

"They blindfolded me so I have no idea where they took me. But Spinelli was there and – Jason – he's in terrible shape."

"OK, back up. I want you to tell me everything you can remember – in detail."

Elizabeth recounted her ordeal to Jason, giving him details about the rooms she saw, Spinelli's drifting mind, the physical abuse he had been enduring and the drugs that had obviously been forced on him. She finished with the story of him being forced to hold a gun to his head, convinced that he was killing himself to save her. She also passed on Anthony's warning that if anything happened to him, Spinelli would be dead. This was too much for Jason to take in. His legs, unaccustomed to becoming weak, forced him to sit down.

"I – this is all my fault." Jason swallowed hard and rested his forehead on his balled fists. What was Anthony's game? Why be so blunt and open about the kidnapping after the silence?

"Jason…"

"It is. I should have protected him. He was suicidal and I had _no_ idea. Then men took him from the hospital and are torturing him – because of me. Some friend I turned out to be."

"He loves you." Jason shook his head but Elizabeth continued. "Jason – he does. You're his family."

"He would be better off without me."

"I'm not so sure. I couldn't get a straight story out of him but – it sounds like his childhood was no picnic either. You're all he has."

"He has Maxie too."

"He doesn't think so. He thinks no one will ever love him."

Jason sighed, trying to push away the emotions that got in the way of the mission. He would think about all this later. "We need a medical consult on this." He picked up his phone. After calls to Robin and Patrick were unsuccessful, he made another phone call to Max.

After almost an hour passed with Jason getting every detail he could out of Liz, finally Max opened the door to Jason's office. "Mr. Morgan – Dr. Hunter to see you."

"Show him in."

"Don't act like this is some social call. I get strong armed out of Kelly's as I was trying to get a damned cup of coffee and shoved into a dark SUV – what the hell is going on?"

"Max!" Jason barked.

Max bolted back into the room. "Yes Jason?"

"Get Dr. Hunter a cup of coffee – on the house."

"Sure thing. What can I get you?"

"A – " he looked at Jason, Elizabeth and Max as if they were all crazy. "A triple latte."

Max closed the door. Jason tapped a pen on the desk after staring at Matt for a long moment.

"I need you to keep this quiet."

Matt glowered at Jason. "Or what?"

Jason ignored him. "Do you remember a patient....Spinelli?"

"Damian....Yeah, I remember him." Matt tried not to look as concerned as he was. "He's...missing...he's been kidnapped or something...right?"

"Yes. We might have a lead on where he's been taken...but I need to know some things first."

"What do you mean? Where is he?? Take me to him." For a brief second Matt looked hopeful then looked down at the floor, wondering why he had been called in. Had Damian said something to him about Matt being his brother? Matt was dying for information but wasn't willing to spill secrets to get it. Especially to this mobster that Damian thought of as a brother when he would never get that privilege again.

"No, you don't understand. I just need a medical consultation"

"You want a consultation on what meds to slip in someone's tea?" Jason glared at Matt, wanting to punch him. "Sorry. Bad taste. Look, I don't want to get my hands dirty in your business."

"You won't be."

Max came in with Matt's coffee and as Matt looked at it, he realized he was being a jerk again because he was jealous and pissed. He decided to help if he could. Matt sighed. "What do you want to know? "

"The people who took him kidnapped Liz today too."

Matt's attitude turned instantly to concern. "Are you OK?"

Elizabeth nodded. "I'm fine. It's Spinelli – he needs help."

"Wait...if you are here...wait - what? Did they let him go? He needs to be in a hospital. I can't just speculate about him. Where is he?? If he is in that bad a shape - he needs to get to a hospital right away. What are you doing, wasting time with me?"

"We don't know where he is!" Jason bellowed, wondering why this doctor was acting so worried about a guy he barely knew.

Elizabeth interjected knowing at any moment Jason would explode. "They took me just so I could help Spinelli. I was blindfolded. When I was done, they let me go – but they kept him."

"What could you do, if he was in that bad a shape? You are just a nurse. I mean, why didn't they take a doctor?

Elizabeth ignored his rude remark. "I am sure they took me because they know I'm – friends with Jason." She snuck a look at Jason, knowing the remark would drive home his theories he was too dangerous to be around, but she went on. "I think that I was taken to witness what was being done - to let Jason know what is happening….And to warn him."

"Warn him of what?"

Jason interjected, holding up a hand. "That's not important Dr. Hunter. That's my business. You are here for medical consultation only. Elizabeth – tell him about the shape Spinelli is in."

"It's bad." She shook her head.

Matt took a deep breath. It was time to be a doctor. Bad shape? Okay, how bad? Tell me everything."

"Dr. Hunter, I think Spinelli was drugged with something...I don't know what it would be though, his symptoms were strange...." Elizabeth told her story once again, this time using more medical jargon than she had with Jason.

Jason let her finish and then spoke. "Look, Dr. Hunter, I need to know some things about the state of mind he is in...How much time he has..."

Matt shuffled. "How much time he has? What do you mean? You mean they're going to kill him, don't you?" He pursed his lips and paused, angry his brother was involved with these monsters. "That's what you people do, isn't it? Kill people that get in your way?"

Jason leaned forward in his chair menacingly. "If that's true, then why is you are doing your best to piss me off?" Jason was obviously angry and Matt knew he shouldn't be testing his patience, but it frustrated him that things were as bad as they were.

"Jason." Elizabeth said quietly, calming him down. Jason's eyes became less intense.

"Look, I'm sorry. It's just – he's like a brother to me. I need to do whatever I can to help him. And if that means getting as much information as I can, that is what I will do."

Matt sighed, trying to keep his anger in check. It was a sure sign that he was emotionally involved. It burned that this mobster called Spinelli his brother.

"I have no idea. If they are drugging him like you say they are, they could give him an overdose at any minute. He could have a heart attack, he could lose his mind altogether. He was in the hospital for depression. If they are giving him large doses of antidepressants, it could account for some of what you were saying. Also, they could be giving him hallucinogens, any kind of recreational drugs like ecstasy or heroin. I won't know until I give him a tox screen. You need to find him. Fast."

*****************

"He'll kill you....you m-murdered her. Stone Cold is coming and he'll kill you."

"...Why would he kill me....she's just another nurse, right? You know - you keep threatening me with Morgan. Stone Cold this and that – Stone Cold will kill me – Stone Cold is coming to get you – Stone Cold will save you. You call him Stone Cold but he can't be all that cold to you or you wouldn't be so fond of him. Morgan cares a lot f or you doesn't he? That's a little _strange_, don't you think – the closeness - two grown men...."

"It's not like that."

"Oh so it's not like _that_ Sunshine......Well, excuse me. I'm not trying to insinuate anything _unseemly_ of course. I was just voicing the opinion of some of my bodyguards – they can be real gossips – like schoolgirls, really. So, if it's not _like that_ then what is it?"

Spinelli squirmed, feeling awkward at what Anthony was saying. "He's - my friend." Spinelli felt odd saying it.

"Your _friend_....your _special_ friend? Are you _best_ friends? Or is it like a father figure thing? Do you think of him like a father? Well - that's a little weird too isn't it? Do you _love_ him Mr. Spinelli? Does he tell you everything?"

"No. Yes. NO." Spinelli stumbled over his words confused as to what Anthony was asking him. His head hurt and the drugs were still fogging his brain.

"Oh....so he doesn't - does - doesn't - tell you everything. Interesting........does he tell you how much he cares about you? I bet he really is going _crazy_ trying to find you....it's touching, really – oops – sorry - no pun intended. You know, I think I know why you really relate to him though...you miss your Daddy."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh – I don't? Are you sure? You are an orphan are you not? Raised by your grandmother?"

"How - How did you know that?"

"Do you think that we didn't do research on you, Sunshine? I have spent an enormous amount of time and energy on you, my little pet. Do you think you are the only one who has the ability to look up information? You are not that special you know. I know a lot about you. The files on your computer have been quite an interesting read."

Spinelli's blood chilled. There were things that never were supposed to be known - certainly not by this maniacal devil.

"So – you miss Daddy. You latch onto Morgan. That works I guess...he doesn't have any children, so he adopted you! Morgan _doesn't_ have any children...right, Sunshine? You don't have a little brother out there do you? Not Jacob Martin Spencer? But then you said he _wasn't_ Morgan's kid – right? Right. We've established that already. He is definitely _not_ Morgan's kid. Sure – we'll go with that story. You know, he's a sweet kid...Ms. Webber was going to pick him up from daycare when we nabbed her. Wait - _you_ aren't his daddy are you? I saw how sweet and cozy you and Miss Lizzie looked together. Hmm? No? Oh, right, surely not - you are all _in love_ with Maxie Jones. In any case, he doesn't look much like Looo Loo's cop brother Lucky, does he?"

Spinelli refused to take the bait.

"So - does he tell you about Ms. Webber? If you two are so close, surely he told you about her. So - Jason cares about her - loves her even? How do you feel about that? Does it make you jealous? What if they had gotten married? That would've kind of pushed you out of the picture wouldn't it? Are you glad she's dead?"

"Shut up!"

"You are – aren't you? So you can have your Stone Cold all to yourself? So……if you two are like brothers – what about your real brother? That leaves him out in the cold does it not?

"Where-"

"Where did I find that out? In your files! I told you – we know everything – **everything**. We read your journals. Poor kid – your brother abandons you when you are only eight and then not only does he show up out of the blue – but he steals your woman out from under you?? Ooops -" Anthony chuckled. "Poor choice of words I guess, eh Sunshine? Wow – now I have heard of cold before – but that is just – wow. You know – we could go pick him up for you – give him a good talking to - if you know what I mean."

"Leave him alone." Spinelli croaked.

"Why? You don't even like him – isn't that right? You know what? I'll even make this easier – we'll pick him up and he can take your place. All you have to do it say the word. Say the word and this will be all over – the brother you hate – the one who left you alone to become a rich doctor – because his mommy hated you – the one who stole your true love - he'll be here enduring all this and you will be free to be with your Maxie with him out of the way. What do you say?"

"No."

"Are you sure? We can – "

"NO!"

"Wow – you are even loyal to the brother you hate – I am impressed."

"Shut up." Spinelli shook his head. He had known cruelty in his life; he just never learned to defend against it. He didn't have the capacity to understand it.

"You have been here for a while now and you still have not learned respect. I have a little project for you Sunshine. You need to realize just how easy it is for us to get to the ones you love. So, you will write an obituary for Maxie Jones. Your lovely Maxie Jones. Imagine her lying dead and cold in a casket. What would you say about her? You will write it - and if you are not careful, it just might need to get published in the paper."

**Next Chapter: History repeats......**


	9. Blindman's Bluff

Blindman's Bluff

By the way - the title of this chapter was almost: "We Have No Clever Ideas What To Name This Chapter - So Here It Is - Deal."

Author's Note: Dear readers: Sorry we suck. We have been very remiss in posting this chapter. We had every intention of doing so much earlier – between work, school, Christmas, a fire at my apartment building and the subsequent search for and move into a new apartment and the Soap Cruise, it has been crazy. OK, excuses, excuses – we simply suck. So, here is our latest chapter. It is written in a series of the present and flashback scenes (in italics) so I hope no one gets confused.

Also: **Just to be perfectly clear**---someone asked about the last chapter. In this fic, Matt and Spinelli are half brothers, **not** Matt and Patrick. We began writing this fic before Matt even showed up in town, so we chose to make him related to Spinelli. You will learn more about their parents as the story develops.

We appreciate reviews - even though we are terrible. :)

….two weeks later

Johnny had been summoned to the Zacchara mansion for breakfast, a situation just as tense and formidable as a trek to the principal's office. If he had his way, Johnny would be taking the opportunity to create a new life for himself in Port Charles and never see his father again. However, he obliged the old man simply because Claudia had asked him to get closer to their father in the hopes that some information could be gained on the whereabouts of Spinelli. So far, though, nothing of any use had been muttered by Anthony.

He didn't expect today to be any different, so imagine his surprise when the eldest Zacchara started a conversation about the old asylum Johnny had been kept in months ago by Sonny Corinthos. Scraping butter across a piece of warm toast, he almost froze in shock, the knife hovering over the bread as thoughts raced through his head.

"That place Corinthos held you is a hell-hole." Anthony said, starting the conversation. Johnny told himself to play it cool. It was too good to be true. It had to be coincidence. His father wouldn't make a mistake that big, would he? A strange slip of the tongue, a vague pondering…the thing that really grabbed Johnny's attention was how his father phrased the sentence. He used "is" instead of "was".

"Yeah, it was," Johnny accentuated the past tense. Anthony had never seen where he had been held – not as far as he knew anyway. He knew this was the break they had been hoping for. With a racing heart, Johnny tried to play it cool so as not to suggest that anything was wrong. He reached for the coffee pot and Johnny began pouring himself a cup of coffee as if nothing more important than weather was being discussed.

The asylum? The cold, damp asylum? How long had Spinelli been gone now? Almost a month.

Anthony ruffled his newspaper and quietly spoke. "It was a genius place to hold someone though. No one ever goes there. You wouldn't be found for a long time."

Johnny gulped. "Probably not. Do you want some more coffee?"

Why was his father saying this? Was it too late? Did it no longer matter if Spinelli was found? Was this his father's subtle way at having one last laugh as he twisted the Rubik's cube one final time?

He almost spilled the coffee over the rim of the cup lost in his own questions. Passing the cup to his father, Johnny tried not to look him in the eyes.

"Thank you John. It's nice that you have been around more lately, learning the business. It is heartening to think you are taking more of an interest."

Anthony went back to his paper with a smile on his face, the same grin that Johnny could never decipher. It could have been kind or malicious, an expression with a split personality--- the smile seen just as a blade plunges into your gut; the smile seen as friends embrace after years of separation.

"Well, it's my legacy after all." And Johnny smiled too, if somewhat sadly, knowing exactly where to find Spinelli.

*********

Johnny crept along the passageway, flashlight in hand, trying to stay quiet as the unwanted mouse that he was. Something told him he was on the right track. He didn't understand why his father would bring the guy here - maybe some twisted sense of balancing the world - but Johnny was appalled. There couldn't ever be any sort of peace in the world where his father still lived and breathed.

Room 189 - he'd remembered the number. Why were there no guards? Maybe his assumption had been wrong. If Spinelli was being kept here, there would have been people making sure he didn't escape. Unless, of course, (and Johnny shuddered at the thought) it didn't matter anymore. He quickened his pace, as if after a month in solitude seconds of time really mattered at this point.

Why were there no guards? He couldn't push the question from his mind. This was too simple. A setup?

Approaching the door, Johnny shined the light in the tiny slit window. The orb crawled across the wall, then down to the floor, and around the room - wherever he could bend the light, he did.

Finally, he managed to illuminate the corner of the padded cell. Johnny's heart skipped a beat when he saw the figure folded in the corner. His assumption had been correct - he wished it wasn't.

"Oh God," Johnny mumbled, sighing. He didn't know what was worse, the purple on his arms, the red down the once white shirt, or the blue around his eyes. Spinelli was lying contorted like a rag doll tossed from a great height. Johnny remembered that room - it was cold and damp. At least Sonny had left him alone for the most part, not abusing him like Anthony had. It looked like Spinelli was asleep - at least Johnny hoped he was just asleep.

Peaking around quickly, Johnny made sure the coast was clear. He tapped the flashlight on the window a few20times. Spinelli jerked, opening his eyes blearily, a pained expression crossing his face. He weakly held up a hand in front of his face to block the flashlight as if it burned him. Johnny lowered it, disturbed by the look Lulu's friend was giving him. It was void, vacant, but darkly welcoming. It was as if The Jackal's eyes were saying "whatever you have to do, do it."

"Hey, Spinelli, listen -" Johnny spoke, hoping Spinelli could hear him. The purple eyes blinked at him, occasionally rolling backwards as if they couldn't keep focused on him for too long. "- I'm getting you out of here!"

Johnny pulled on the door handle, angry at himself when he realized it was padlocked. He looked back up into the small window at the sunken face. Johnny felt so stupid.

"I'm sorry, it's locked. I...I didn't think...I should've brought something to open the lock." Johnny apologized, genuinely sorry. He couldn't believe he'd come so unprepared. Of course the thing would be locked. Spinelli stared at him for a moment, unmoved, and then bowed his head. Johnny tapped rapidly on the window, wanting to give Spinelli some hope.

"No, Spinelli, listen. I'm going to get Jason, and we're going to get you out of here."

Spinelli opened his mouth as if to speak, but instead just jerked awkwardly. Johnny wasn't sure if he was tired, or sobbing, or both. For a moment, Johnny wasn't even sure if Spinelli realized he was there. It was like the hacker was in a stupor, eyes looking in his direction but not really seeing him.

Johnny ran back he way he came knowing he had to get Jason back here right away.

*******

_Anthony and Spinelli were alone in the room and he was offering Spinelli his twisted version of an escape plan. For once, Anthony had demanded to be alone with his prisoner and as he revealed his demented proposal, he sounded as if he was almost sympathetic. He placed his hand on Spinelli's head wondering how Jason Morgan could inspire such loyalty in a kid who wasn't even a relation. Though he would never admit it, in a twisted way he admired the disheveled young man. He had let himself be tortured and drugged into insanity rather than betray his friend. No matter what they did to him, he fought, with everything he had. He just had no more to give. 'If only my own children had ever been half as loyal to me.' He thought, as he petted his young prisoner's head gently then spoke aloud. "It's up to you - for once you have a choice...you can end it all - all the pain, all the terror, all the sadness. All you have to do is stick this in your arm....and it will all go away. You will slip into a deep sleep and never wake up. This is not a trick Damian…you can make it all stop. It's up to you." _

_Anthony held a syringe up in front of Spinelli's eyes. Spinelli gazed at it, wondering if it was another game. He couldn't remember his life before this room. His mind had begun to break and anything he hadn't forgotten was no more than a hazy dream to him. Anything that had ever been good was gone and it was all terror and pain. He just knew that he wanted it all to end. If he could just go to sleep and never wake up, he would be grateful._

_"You know kid, I thought we would break you early - that you would give Morgan up easy as pie...but you never did. You fought - even when your mind got to be Swiss cheese. I can respect that. Loyalty - you don't see that too much nowadays. I wish my Johnny had more."_

_Anthony placed the syringe in Spinelli's hand. "I really do want to help you." He said as if he meant it. Anthony wheeled himself out of the room, certain that his prisoner would be dead in an hour._

_Spinelli stared at the syringe filled with murky fluid. It held release. It held salvation. It held freedom. He touched the needle to the vein on the inside of his elbow and pressed, harder, harder still. But try as he might, he could not force himself to push hard enough to pierce his own skin. He could not force himself to do the one thing he most wanted in the world._

"_Please. God. Please – make me strong enough to do this." He whispered. "Help me, please." His hand shook and he tried pressing again but could not do it. A flash of a beautiful girl and a handsome man - both blonde and blue-eyed - went through his head and he knew he could not take his own life. If this was the help that God was giving him, he knew he had to take it. He dropped the syringe on the filthy floor and backed away into the corner, staring at the needle; wondering why God had not allowed him to escape this Hell in any way possible._

_*******_

Jason paced the office at the coffee house like a panther. His phone had not rung and he was about to throw it across the room if he didn't hear something soon.

"Jason!!" Johnny Zacchara burst in the office door, Max hot on his heels.

"Hey!" Max grabbed the young man by his shoulders. "I'm sorry Jason, he got past me." Max apologized for the breach in security, a nervous look on his face.

"It's OK Max – it's about Spinelli." He held up a hand to stop Max from tossing the intruder out. "At least it better be." He added with a murderous look at Johnny.

"Yeah – I found him!" Johnny burst out.

"WHERE???" Jason would have shook him to get the information faster if he thought it would help.

"At the old asylum where Sonny kept me – except I got there and they have him locked up – You need to come with me to get him out.

"Let's go – Max, you're coming too." Jason said as he grabbed his jacket and ran out the door.

********

"_Where did you go?"_ _Jason inquired as the small blonde slipped into the coffee house office. The enforcer noticed Maxie Jones' usually pristine appearance was slightly unperfected that day. A small, black smudge was in the corner of her right eye. Other than that, there was no proof that she had been weeping black mascara tears. Jason saw it, even if no one else noticed._

"_I was at Our Lady of Angels – I was praying." Maxie answered stoically. There would be no public mourning for her, not yet._

"_Oh." Jason raised his eyebrows._

"_You sound surprised."_

"_I guess I just didn't think you were very religious."_

"_I'm not. But Spinelli always seems to pray when things get bad – and I guess I was doing it for him. If anyone deserves God's help it's Spinelli. He's the best person I know."_

_Jason nodded slowly, agreeing with her. "He doesn't have a mean bone in his body. I remember once, he gave his entire pay to the animal shelter when they were having a fundraiser. I asked him why he did it and he said that animals were helpless and we needed to take care of them. Then he said that he didn't need the money anyway. He's never given a damn about money or power or anything that people in my business fight over." Jason's face held a faraway expression. "He didn't know it but after that, I donated 50 grand to the place."_

"_You did?"_

_Jason's eyes cleared and he looked at her. "Don't start thinking I'm a good person or anything. It's all because of Spinelli. He makes me think of doing stuff like that. I wouldn't think of it otherwise."_

"_I know what you mean. I'm not a good person – but he makes me want to be better – and when I'm with him – I almost think I _can_ be. That's why it is impossible for me to believe he is gone. God wouldn't do that. He wouldn't take someone who makes the world a better place – would he?"_

_******_

Johnny led them into the darkened building, pistols drawn in case they ran into Anthony's men. Rats scurried away from the beams of their flashlights. When they reached the room that Johnny had found earlier, Max took a pair of bolt cutters and cut the lock. Jason yanked open the door and saw Spinelli, in a huddled heap on the floor. He looked like he might be dead.

"Spinelli!" Jason ran over to him and pulled him to a sitting position. Spinelli's eyes opened and tried to focus. "Hey – we found you. We're gonna get you out of here ok?"

Spinelli's eyes widened and his breath started to come in gasps – he tried in vain to push Jason away, writhing in panic. "Jason's _dead_! Jason's _dead_! You can't trick me!" He rasped desperately. Jason held his arms but he kept moaning. "No! Please don't cut me again! Please!" He screamed in pain, then groaned. Jason looked at Spinelli's arms, covered in slashes and hideous bruises. He let him go, shocked and afraid he would hurt himself more. Spinelli scuttled away like an injured, limping animal, collapsing in the corner as far away from the men as he could go. He stared at Jason as if he was seeing a horrific scene. His breath was rasping and he was shaking visibly; his teeth chattered. His face looked like it was dirty but they slowly realized it was mostly bruised shades of purple and blue and sickly green. Dried blood trailed down the side of his face from a cut above his eye, which was swollen. He held his left arm against his ribs and the other out in front of him like a shield.

Johnny approached him carefully. "Hey Spinelli. Hey – it's me – Johnny." He spoke as if to a wild animal. "Your friend, remember?" Johnny hoped Spinelli remembered him as a friend. "We came to get you out of here ok? We're not going to hurt you." Johnny crouched down next to Spinelli who kept glancing from him to Jason as if one of them would attack him at any moment. Johnny reached out his hand and gently touched Spinelli's shoulder. He whimpered and pulled back but not as violently as he had with Jason. Then Spinelli's eyes focused on Johnny – he touched his shoulder tentatively as if he wasn't sure if he was there or not. "Y-You c-came to g-get me? We're g-g-going home?" He asked in a small voice.

"Yeah Spinelli, we came to get you – we're going home."

"Ok, Matty. Where is D-daddy? He said he was c-coming to take me home." Johnny looked at Jason for an answer but Jason shook his head.

"C'mon Spin – we're going home." When Johnny helped him up, he did not protest. His body was so weak Johnny nearly had to carry him.

Johnny took off his jacket and put it around Spinelli covering the dirty, blood stained tee shirt. "C'mon. You're gonna be ok now." Johnny said, though was unconvinced. He put his arm around Spinelli's waist, evoking a painful grunt. Johnny realized he probably had broken ribs. "I'm sorry." Johnny helped him walk out of the room. As they passed Jason and Max, Spinelli's haunted eyes watched Jason carefully as if he thought he might attack as soon as his back was turned.

"Jesus, Max. What the hell did they do to him?" Jason's eyes were a mixture of shock, pain and fury.

Max just shook his head. He never understood Spinelli but he couldn't stand to see the always ebullient character reduced to a feral state.

***********

_The guard named Turner held a file folder full of Spinelli's secrets that had been left on the desk in the old psychiatrist's office. He laughed as he read the dark history aloud._

"_Institutionalized for severe autism and psychosis?" He chuckled. "Put up for __adoption__ after his father's death." He chuckled. "What's the matter, JACKAL – didn't anyone love you?? Or were they glad to get rid of you? Huh?? JACKAL???"_

"_Stop it!!" Spinelli held his hands over his ears praying for him to go away._

"_Are you crying?? Am I making you upset JACKAL??? I thought you wanted everyone to call you that? Your family thought you were a __freak__, didn't they? They couldn't wait to get rid of you. That's what you are A FREAK!!" He laughed hysterically._

_Spinelli's voice cracked and only a whisper came out. "stop it." His head was on his knees and his body shook uncontrollably. Tears soaked his ratty pajama pants and he wished he were dead._

_Turner threw his knife at Spinelli's head, missing him by mere centimeters. THUD. His favorite game, but Spinelli didn't even wince._

"_What the Hell do you think you are doing?" Anthony's cold voice came from the doorway._

"_Nothin' Mr. Zacchara. Just – just havin' a little fun." Turner swallowed nervously, recognizing that Mr. Zacchara was in a foul mood._

"_Well – he is not your pet or toy. He is my guest and I don't like people messing with him." _

_Turner was confused since Anthony had been torturing him since he had arrived. "I'm sorry Mr. Zacchara. I just thought – "_

"_You thought, what? That you could do anything you want? That this is your own personal amusement?" He snatched the purloined file from Turner's hands._

"_No! No I – "_

"_Shut up." Anthony looked annoyed. In an almost offhanded way, he took out a pistol and shot him._

_Spinelli watched as the man fell in front of him, his eyes wide open and staring at him. _

"_Get me out of here." He ordered Frank._

"_D-don't leave him here!!" Spinelli watched in horror as they all exited the room, leaving the dead man to stare at him in lifeless silence. "Please!! D-don't leave me here with him!!"_

_Without turning around Anthony spoke to him. "You should have taken the out, Sunshine. You could have made it all stop. But you decided to live. This is what you have brought on yourself. Remember that."_

_********_

The three men got Spinelli into the car and as Max drove away, Spinelli slumped listlessly against the back door, seeming to accept whatever fate awaited him. His eyes were closed and his hand rested against his forehead as if he was trying to hold his thoughts in his head. He muttered quietly to himself and his breathing was shallow.

"Max. We need to get to GH right away."

"On it Boss." Max accelerated and tried not to look at the figure in the back.

Jason sat in the back with Johnny between him and Spinelli. He felt as if this was a nightmare and he just wanted to wake up. Where was his friend? It couldn't be this wild creature that looked at him as if he was terrified of him. They had done something to him to take his soul.

Max drove up to the emergency entrance at General Hospital. When Spinelli felt the car stop, he lifted his head weakly and looked out the window. When he saw where he was, his resolute demeanor changed back into the frail wildness they had seen at the asylum. He clawed at the door handle desperate to get out. He managed to open the door and with the strength that terror had given him, bolted from the car, heedless of his bare feet on the rough pavement. Jason sprung from the other side of the car and easily ran him down, trying as gently as he could to tackle him.

Spinelli wrestled weakly, trying to get away from the entrance to the hospital and from Jason's captivity. The cuts on his chest and arms started bleeding as Jason tried to subdue him.

"Please! No! Don't leave me here! Please!!" His voice was so feeble and raw that his wretched pleas were little more than a whisper. Jason could feel his heart pounding through his sharp ribs. He begged forlornly, staring into Jason's eyes. "I'll be good! I promise. I won't make mama mad anymore. Please." His voice sounded like a child. Jason's heart broke.

Jason tried to get through to his friend. He knew he was still in there – somewhere. "Spinelli! No – it's ok! We won't take you there! It's ok – you don't have to go in there. I'll take you home, OK? It's OK!! Maxie is waiting for you – Maxie needs you to come home!" When Spinelli heard Maxie's name he stopped struggling as if a bell had gone off.

"Maxie?" He collapsed in Jason's arms and stared at the sky, crying soundlessly. Jason got him back into the car and as they drove away from General Hospital, Jason looked down with the horrible realization that he had Spinelli's blood all over his hands.

_*******_

"_Get the body out of there – it's probably starting to stink."_

"_What do you want me to do with it?"_

"_Do I have to tell you every little thing? Dump it in the usual place. C'mon Frank. Use some initiative for crying out loud."_

"_Sorry Mr. Zacchara. Oh – and you might want to check in on the kid. He's really lost it."_

_*****_

_Maybe his daddy was coming. He said he would. And Matty too. They were supposed to come take him home. He hoped everything would be ok now. He could talk better now so maybe Mama Clara wouldn't be mad at him anymore….._

_……..Such a pretty, pretty code on the wall. He couldn't read music that well, but he knew a code when he saw one. This one was balanced, mathematical but only enough to give it some sort of order. Someone wrote the pretty coded music and called it Lulu's Song. She'd like that, whoever she was. It was so pretty. Why would they write it on the wall? Surely paper would've made more sense. _

_  
Spinelli's head rested on the wall as he thumbed the closest music note, a smidge of ink sticking to the lines in the padded skin. Identity. He should leave a fingerprint behind...once he was gone, someone should know he had been there, right? Leave a mark so that he couldn't be forgotten._

__

He barely heard the door creak open as two figures appeared in the doorway. He was too busy trying to soak some more ink onto his flesh, wanting to leave some sort of evidence that he existed behind. He existed! It wasn't fair. Someone should've remembered he existed by now.

_"Geez Frank – look at him. Those drugs are killing him. He's no good to me like that, he's lost his mind." Anthony said ironically. He looked in disgust at the lump of a human lying in the corner muttering to himself about the beautiful music on the walls and breathing sickly, poking and proding one of the many music notes that had been tattooed all over the cell by Anthony's own son months before._

"_Such a pretty song….such a pretty song." Spinelli hummed to himself._

"_Sorry Mr. Z. I can probably give him something to perk him up if you need him to do something."_

"_Nah. I really only needed him to do that stuff to keep Morgan's attention – let him know the kid was still alive and keep him looking for him. It was all a little game to keep Morgan off balance while I dug deeper into Port Charles. The rest was all – for fun, shall we say? I don't mind having a little fun - it breaks up the monotony after all."_

_Frank looked at Anthony, more respectfully scared of him than he was before. He had thought all the torture was for a purpose at least, not purely entertainment. "So, what do you want to do with him?"_

"_Shoot him up with something to keep him alive but loopy and in a few days we'll give him an overdose, dump him in the Hudson – they'll figure he offed himself or OD'd."_

"_Morgan will never let it go – he'll know we had did it. Maybe we should let him go."_

_"We can't let him go. If I sent him back in relative health, Morgan would only want to kill me - if I send him back like this?? Like a brain damaged vegetable? Morgan will torture me and THEN kill me! No – I have no intentions of letting him go. We'll kill him and make it look like suicide. He was in the hospital for it after all. Morgan will know the truth but he can't prove it and he is a little more level headed than Corinthos."_

"_Not when it comes to this kid - he's already pulled in a bunch of my guys and threatened them at gunpoint. Luckily, none of them knew anything. But that Elizabeth Webber has already told him about all this."_

"_You worry too much Frank. He won't come after me without proof to show the five families. They'd have his head. We'll keep an eye out for any sign of retribution on Morgan's mind. If he makes a move, we'll take the little nursie again and if Morgan doesn't back down, she won't be so lucky this time and neither will her boys. Besides, once Morgan sees the kid dead, he will be too devastated to even think strait."_

"_That's what I'm worried __about__." Replied Frank, even more convinced that Anthony Zacchara wasn't playing with a full deck if he though Jason Morgan was just going to let this go._

********

Matt looked at Jason who looked as if he was going to shoot someone. This was not going to end well for the men who had done this.

Matt then stared at Spinelli. Who the hell had done this to him? What kind of sick bastard would do this to a guy like him? He had never hurt anyone in his life. He approached him carefully. Maxie had called him in a panic and told him briefly what had happened. They had found Spinelli, but he was out of his mind and they could not get him to go to the hospital. What she had described to him was nothing compared to what Matt now saw. Spinelli lying on the couch as if tossed there, oddly contorted in pain. If anyone besides Maxie tried to touch him, he cringed and cried out as if they were trying to hurt him.

"Please....I d-don't know anything...I swear...........I j-just want to go home." He moaned to no one in particular. Maxie tried to comfort him, pushing his hair back. Her touch made him shudder but he did not pull away. Matt noted the grey tinge to his brother's flesh, as if death had already claimed him. They were either just in time, or too late.

"Spin – you are home. You're here with me and Jason." She said gently.

"No…" He cried mournfully. "Stone Cold is dead……I saw the paper…..I killed him…I _killed_ him…… It's my fault."

Jason ran his hands helplessly through his hair. He was standing right there and it was if Spinelli couldn't see him. He had thought he was his father earlier and was now convinced that he was dead.

"Stone Cold!" Spinelli's eyes focused suddenly on him. One skeletal hand reached out into the air. Jason started and stepped in front of all of them, kneeling next to the couch. The enforcer gently took the hand that was desperately clawing at him, the sudden energy dying as soon as Spinelli realized he had made contact. "I must speak to you about a matter of a most distressing nature."

Jason was relieved for a moment, hearing him speak almost normally, though his voice was still broken. Maybe he was coming around. "Yeah Spin – what is it man? What is it Spinelli?"

It suddenly occurred to Jason that Spinelli wasn't really seeing him. Though looking in his direction, his focus seemed to be just over his shoulders.

"The Unhinged One. He is holding The Jackal in a prison of solitude. He has murderous intentions – you must find the Jackal before it is too late."

Jason was confused and anxious again. "Spinelli – _you_ are The Jackal. You're here, you're home, and you're safe now. Do you know where you are?" He wanted to shake him, to make him come back to his senses.

Spinelli looked around himself as if not recognizing anything. "The Jackal does not know – it is too dark. Cold too. The Jackal is uncertain as to where he is being held. He assumes the dilapidated asylum outside of town. You must make haste before it is too late…..they're killing him Stone Cold." He finished in a defeated tone.

He dropped Jason's hand and turned slowly from him, pulling his knees up and hugging them to his chest. Green eyes stared blankly at nothing. Maxie, still too shocked to cry, tugged the blanket up around his shoulders and looked up at Jason and Matt for answers.

Both of them knew this was more than they could handle on their own. They had to get him to the hospital somehow but Spinelli had panicked so completely at the mere sight of the building, he would have to be sedated to get him there.

Spinelli tugged fretfully at his hair and Maxie gently took his cut and bruised hands in hers to calm him. He pulled his hands away and she saw that his left wrist was bandaged in a dirty wrapping as he hugged it close to himself.

Maxie sat by him on the floor; she longed to hold him. She hadn't been able to in so long and he looked so sad and scared. His eyes, usually so full of life and joy were dark and haunted. "It's going to be alright, Spin. I'm not going to leave you. I'm never going to leave you. You're safe now." Maxie slid closer to him and rested her head next to his on the side of the couch, petting his face gently.

Spinelli put his head on her shoulder; she could feel him shaking with unshed tears. She kissed his matted hair and stroked his back and she could feel his body start to give in to exhaustion. She felt as if he had become a stranger - a stranger that she was in love with. She knew she had to bring him back. Somehow, she had to make him come back.

Matt approached with a needle full of a sedative. When Spinelli spied it, he shook his head weakly. "Oh no… Please – no more!" His cracked voice rasped. "You're going to kill me! Please!" He backed further into the corner of the couch, trying to get away and held a hand out in front of himself. "Please." He held his arm out trying to ward off the attack.

"We're not going to hurt you, Spinelli!" Jason called out.

"It goes too fast!" Spinelli insisted, tapping on his chest frantically. Matt realized he was pointing at his heart. "Much too fast - it's going to burst!

"What makes it go fast, Day?" Matt asked as if speaking to a child.

Spinelli choked out a sobbed phrase. "Why do you make me feel better just to make me feel worse?" Strangely, Spinelli started feeling his surroundings, tracing his hands across the pillows and fabric. His previous rant was totally forgotten, as if he no longer saw the threat of a slowly approaching Dr. Hunter. Something had distracted his blurred psyche. He slowly felt for the ground as if he wasn't quite sure it was really there or not, drawing small circles along the carpet.

Spinelli proceeded to rip threads out of the carpet methodically. Bloodshot and dazed green eyes stared unblinkingly at the mess he was creating, seeing something that only he could. There wasn't even any acknowledgement of pain, only a strange vision. The hostility mixed with the complete lack of resistance was confusing to witness. It was as if a stubborn part of Spinelli wanted to have his say, but accepted it would cause him harm.

Matt approached cautiously. "Maxie back away from him." He ordered. Matt put the syringe in the pocket of his lab coat and went towards him slowly, his hands outstretched, showing him they were empty. "Hey. Hey. It's ok. You're ok now. We just want to help you."

Spinelli's eyes searched Matt's face. A look of recognition came over him. "M-matty? Is it you? You came to g-get me?"

"Yeah Day, it's me. It's ok now buddy." He knelt down in front of him.

Maxie and Jason looked quizzically at the two of them.

Spinelli gently touched his brother's face and smiled faintly. "OK."

Matt reached into his pocket and grabbed the syringe; he gently pushed it into the already bruised skin on Spinelli's arm. Spinelli looked at him accusingly.

"I'm sorry Day. I'm just trying to help." He whispered and patted his head as he fell asleep on the floor. "We can move him to GH now." Matt's face was immobile. Neither Jason nor Maxie could read what he was thinking, and he was grateful for that.

*******


	10. Haunted

Chapter 10

Haunted.

OK – sorry this has taken so long to post. Life has a way of sneaking in and taking up all your time. I am sure you all understand. This chapter explores a teensy bit more of Spinelli's past. Remember that all the italic sections are flashbacks (but the fonts on here are not distinct so I have noted the flashback). If you have any questions, let me know.

Remember too that the stuff happening on the show (Scrubs marriage and Emma do not exist, Matt & Pat are not bros in the story, etc.)

As always - reviews are appreciated. I would like to know what people think this story is an allegory for. I actually have a point to this story and would like to know people's impression of what they think it all means. Kind of like a book club discussion.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Spinelli woke to Maxie's voice. *_Dreaming again*_, he thought. But the dream did not disappear right away and the pain did not come as it always did. His body was numb, he could not feel anything; his thoughts were fuzzy. These were the good drugs.

"Spinelli? Can you hear me?" His eyes watched her face as she smoothed the hair on his forehead in a gently repetitive and soothing motion.

_*I love you Maxie. Don't forget me. When I die – remember me.*_

"Can you hear me?"

He didn't attempt to answer her since she was not real; he just followed her motions with his eyes. It took too much energy to reply anyway. If only his mind could keep convincing itself she was real, she could keep doing that forever. Just that. Just stroking his forehead. It was all he needed. Her eyes and her touching his hair and he could lie in this dream state forever - as long as the men did not come with the bad drugs again. The ones that burned his flesh off and made him wretch in pain.

The fuzziness in his head forced his eyes closed. He tried to fight it but could not. He hoped this dream would still be there when he woke up again.

But when he woke, the pain was there. He tried to crawl away from it but he fell to the floor, convulsing with the pain that seared his skin and knotted his stomach until he couldn't bear the dry heaving any longer. His heart was bursting, was exploding in his chest. It couldn't go any faster. He knew he would die.

"_God! Please! Oh my God! Help me!_" His mind cried out but his voice did not respond. His lips tried to form the syllables, tried to wrap around the words, but none would come out. "_Please!_" He lay his cheek on the floor trying to cool his skin. His muscles contracted again and the darkness came.

FLASHBACK:

_Spinelli woke to pain as usual. It was becoming routine, the pain, the drugs, the fuzziness in his brain, the sickness, the nightmares, the voices. But today the men felt like playing and he was their toy._

_"See what he does." He heard a voice say with a chuckle._

_Spinelli suddenly felt something cover his face, cut off his air, he tried to breathe in, but it was no use, the suction only made it worse._

_He felt the smooth plastic sheeting against his skin. His eyes were open now and he could see the men's distorted and gleeful smiles through the transparent film as they tortured him. He clawed frantically at the plastic and tried to twist away from it but the man behind him held it tight to his face. _

_His screams were trapped along with his breath. **They're killing me! Stone Cold, help me! Please! God! Someone. I'm dying.**_

_His head grew light as it was deprived of oxygen. His legs thrashed futilely on the floor in an attempt to kick off the attack. The light grew grey._

_The man holding the plastic released him and he lay limp, coughing and sucking in the stale air of the room in sobbing gasps. _

_"whadayaknow – he does have a little fight in left in him." The other men laughed at him and kicked at his ribs half-heartedly. Their prey would not fight back and they lost their interest._

_"Let's go get a beer."_

_The lights went out and Spinelli crawled to the corner and prayed in the darkness for release._

_"Please, God." He whispered into the dark._

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Why is he doing that?" Maxie cried and held her hands over her mouth to keep from yelling. They were watching Spinelli through an observation window as he thrashed violently against his restraints for a few moments and then relaxed. His lips moved with silent words.

"He's hallucinating." Patrick said then glanced at his girlfriend. "Maybe she shouldn't be here Robin."

"I'm staying." Maxie replied firmly. Patrick left the two of them to talk and went into his patient's room.

"Why do you have to restrain him?" Her eyes pleaded with Robin.

"Maxie - he already fell out of his bed trying to get out. He was violently fighting the doctors and nurses when we tried to examine him. Right now he is a danger to himself and others. You don't want him to hurt himself, do you?" Her cousin asked her.

"No. I just – I can't stand this Robin!"

"I know. But you have to trust us – we would never do anything to hurt him. We wouldn't do this if it wasn't necessary." Robin placed a hand on her cousin's arm before joining Patrick in Spinelli's room. They studied his chart and looked concerned.

"We're waiting on the toxicology on him." Matt came up behind her.

"Was that really necessary?"

"Of course it was. It's standard and he sure seems to be on something."

"He's not _on_ something - he was kidnapped! He's just - scared."

"I don't think so – he's hallucinating and physically violent which, from what little I know of him is very out of character. Drugs could account for that kind of behavior. We just want to rule it out. If he has drugs in his system, they are messing with his brain chemistry. We need to get his system clean so we can treat him. He was in for depression before he was kidnapped and I would hate for him to hurt himself."

"Why are you so concerned? You don't even like Spinelli – "

"Who says I don't like him??" Matt snapped.

"Because you were annoyed when I called you to come over to help last night – you are always annoyed around him."

"It's not annoyance."

"Then what is it?"

"Dr. Hunter?" Patrick interrupted.

"Coming Dr. Drake." Matt left Maxie to ponder his words.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Maxie?" Jason came out onto the roof of the hospital. Maxie stood looking out on the lights of the city. She quickly wiped her eyes. She didn't want Jason to see her crying. "Maxie – you OK?"

Maxie turned around and leaned on the wall. "Did you see his eyes Jason? That's not Spinelli in there. His eyes….look so – scared and sad and haunted. What did they do to him?" Jason sighed. "What if… Jason, what if we don't get - _him _- back?"

Jason gently pulled her towards him and hugged her.

Maxie wept into his shirt. "Jason – I just - love him so much. I can't live without him."

"I know. We're gonna get him back Maxie. We have to."

"But – how?" She pulled back and looked at Jason for an answer.

"I don't know. I'm not so great at these things. If he were trapped in a collapsed tunnel or something, I would know what to do. I could crawl in and pull him out. This is – I don't really know. Maybe we – have to show him that he's safe now. That we love him and need him back."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Matt stood outside his brother's hospital room, trying to work up the courage to go in - he wasn't sure if his brother would want him to be there. He had told him to go away, had insisted he wanted him to leave him alone. But that had been before. What if his mind was permanently frozen in this phantom hell? Tormented; trapped. It wasn't fair. From the time he had been born, he had been tested by life. He had never been given a break.

And though he was his brother, Matt was an outsider in his life - he had failed him miserably.

_Damian has a new family – one he built himself – one that takes care of him. _ He told himself._Jason is more of a brother to him than I ever was. And he doesn't need me coming in now, trying to make up for lost time, not that I ever could._

_Coward. You're a fucking coward._ Matt took a deep breath and went in the door.

"Maxie?"

Maxie wiped her eyes quickly. "Matt. What are you doing here?"

"I'm – just checking on him. How is he?"

Maxie looked at Spinelli – he was still restlessly writhing against his restraints as he had been for the last day and a half. His fingers alternately shook and feverishly typed on an invisible keyboard. His eyes roamed the room, following people that no one else could see; ghosts and memories and terrors. The terrified moans and whimpers he emitted and the mumbled conversations he was having with unseen people were almost worse than the preceding days when he had been alternately violent and a cowering heap.

At least he was now in a regular room instead of the padded one in which they had been forced to put him to keep him from harming himself. He had clawed at the walls, begging them to release him as his mind recreated the terrors he had endured. Realizing it was making it worse, they had moved him to a normal room and he had calmed somewhat.

"The same – not good. Jason just went to talk to Patrick and Robin."

Spinelli mumbled as his eyes twitched, following the unseen. His breathing was rapid and shallow as if someone was chasing him.

"stone cold….i don't want to hurt myself. i don't want to die. i just want it to stop…..the jackal struggles………it's a lie. it's a _lie_." He whimpered. "he can't be dead. he's my brother. i am his grasshopper…no….i killed him. i didn't mean to. i swear…..the jackal thought it would be ok…..but they showed me….they _showed_ me……ohhhh….God." He turned his head and squeezed his eyes against the thoughts in his fevered brain.

"I can't do it. I don't know anything. please....oh…." He whimpered again, pitifully. "…the blood...it is everywhere... I have to hold it in…..i can't live without blood…..it is essential…." He tried to sit up but the restraints held him down. "no…please."

He was quiet for a few minutes and seemed to have passed out. But they soon realized he was still hallucinating. His eyes opened again and was looking down at his feet. He was trying to reach now and growing frustrated as his hands were held down.

"I don't know what he wants." She said to Matt.

Spinelli's voice changed. It sounded small and childlike. "matty. m-my sh-shoe. s'untied. m-my shoe's untied matty."

Matt's eyes jerked towards Spinelli's face. This was too hard. Why was God doing this to his brother? Hadn't he been tested enough already?

"Matty?"

Matt hesitated and then went to his brother. He touched his foot, pretending to tie a sneaker, like he had so many times so long ago.

Maxie's eyes searched Spinelli's face then Matt's in utter confusion.

"I got it Day. It's all tied."

"Matty. Is m-mama r-real mad? I r-ripped my jeans again. She's g-gonna be mad."

"She won't be mad Day." He replied as he remembered the incident.

"Yes she will, yes she _will_." He cried.

Matt turned and stepped away, his fists balls of miserable frustration and anger.

"Matty? Where did you go?" He called.

"Hey Day, I'm still here." He said, turning back.

"daddy left me here. he's not coming back. she said so. she said he was dead…..don't leave me here! I don't want to stay! please."

Matt backed away shaking his head. He turned and ran out but his brother's anguished scream chased him. "Maa- ttyyyy!!"

Matt was bent over, his hands on his knees as he tried to steady his breathing.

"What the HELL is going on Matt?" Maxie had followed him out the door after Spinelli had passed out. She was standing over him, confusion in her eyes.

"Maxie…" he started, then shook his head.

"You tell me what's going on _right_ now. He called you Matty!"

"It's – a coincidence." He said lamely, knowing she would never buy it.

"A coincidence? You called him Day – and he responded. You did it the night we found him too – I just was too upset to even think about it then. He never told _me_ his nickname was Day when he was little and I sure doubt he would have told _you……." _

Matt could see the dawning realization in her eyes as he stood again, leaning against the wall for support.

"You're his brother –" She whispered. "- aren't you?"

"Yeah. I'm his brother. And a _fat lot_ of good it did him to have me in there. It's just making him remember things he doesn't need to remember!"

"Like what?"

"Maxie, I – " He pulled his fingers through his hair. He shook his head and walked away.


	11. The Divine Comedy

Authors Note: Hey!!! We are posting quick this time. Yay for us! As always reviews are our only payment for all our hard work. So this is the part where I pander shamelessly and beg for reviews and try and make you feel guilty for enjoying and not reviewing. One little review? Pretty please with sugar and chocolate bits on top???

Thanks in advance.

The Divine Comedy was written by Dante Alighieri between 1308 and his death in 1321 and is considered one of the greatest works in Italian literature as well as one of the greatest works of world literature. The Divine Comedy is divided into three parts — Inferno (Hell), Purgatorio (Purgatory), and Paradiso (Paradise).

Chapter 11

The Divine Comedy

"_Jason, it's Maxie. I had to take care of some things at home. Robin is watching Spinelli for me. When you get this – I need to talk to you – it's important. Find me at the hospital – I'll be back as soon as possible. Tell Spinelli I love him."_

"Jason." Jason turned with his cell phone still to his ear to see Claudia approaching. Her brother had called her in Italy where she had been visiting family to tell her that they had found Spinelli and she looked like she was out of her mind with fury. "I want him _dead_ Jason. I _told_ you he needed to be put down like a rabid dog. I _told_ you he would do something terrible. I want him _dead_. If you don't do it, I'll kill him myself." She was agitated and looked as if she might pull out a gun and go after her father that very night.

"OK, calm down." Jason rubbed his face because he was half tempted to let her do it.

"How can you _say_ that?? Johnny said Spinelli had been tortured like an _animal_, that he was beaten and drugged and worse. What part of that makes you calm?"

"We need to be smart about this Claudia. I can't just go out and execute him. They'd know immediately who did it. I'd wind up in prison and where would that leave Spinelli? He wouldn't want you to go to prison either – you know that."

"Yeah." She blinked back her tears. "No matter what happens to him, he always thinks about everyone else first." She took a deep breath. "OK, no rash moves. As long as you promise me, we are going to make my father pay for this - and not in some comfortable prison mental ward. I want him to suffer."

Jason's face barely registered emotion but Claudia saw his eyes flash. "He'll pay. Be sure of that."

Claudia seemed satisfied with his answer for the time being and then turned her thoughts to her friend. "How is he? Can I see him?"

"He's in pretty rough shape. He doesn't know where or who he is most of the time. It's probably the drugs. Once they are out of his system, the doctors say they'll be able to evaluate him better."

"How is he physically?"

"Cracked ribs, broken wrist, concussion, bruises. They – they cut him all over his arms and hands and chest – I guess to make him do what they wanted, I don't know." Jason rubbed his watering eyes again, sickened to have to list the atrocities they inflicted on him. "They also pretty much starved him while they had him."

"This is not making me any calmer Jason."

"I know – you know I know exactly how you feel. But we need to wait. We have to."

"OK. So, can I see him?"

Jason led her to Spinelli's room. Claudia took one look at his battered body and had to turn away from Jason to hide her shock. She composed herself and turned back. Surveying the restlessly sleeping form, she took in his bruised and cut face. His arms and hands, always so animated now lay on the white sheet, covered in angry red slashes surrounded by bruises; his left wrist was in a cast. His breathing was labored and he whimpered in his sleep. His skin, where it was not bruised, was pale.

It was amazing he hadn't died from an overdose, though she was pretty sure that was what they were going to make it look like. There were dozens of needle marks on his arms along with the superficial cuts and he was more than half starved. He looked like a drug addict. In fact, he was. They had made him dependant on the drugs and now that his body was cleaning itself, it was tormenting him all over again.

A bandage covered the corner of his right eye and his hair, which had been washed by Maxie, lay across his face in the usual haphazard way.

"Oh God. Sweetie." She whispered then touched his hair, gently feeling the softness. His eyelids twitched but did not open.

Claudia made a silent promise that her father would die for this. He would die painfully.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Claudia was still visiting later that day. Maxie had returned and they watched him as he lay restlessly on the bed. He mumbled fragmented phrases and groaned. He was quiet for a few minutes and seemed to have passed out. But they soon realized he was still hallucinating. His eyes opened again - still seeing not the room around him but the horrors of the last weeks.

He muttered and shook his head

"…….a cio ch'io fugga questo male e peggio......I' son fatta da Dio, sua mercé, tale che la vostra miseria non mitange né fiamma d'esto 'ncendio non m'assale......."

"What is he saying??" Maxie's skin crawled. He was speaking in a language she did not understand and sounded like he was possessed.

"It's Italian. It's - from Dante's Inferno." Claudia answered worriedly as she translated. "That I may flee this evil and worse.....God, in His graciousness, has made me so that this, your misery, cannot touch me; I can withstand the fires flaming here." Claudia's eyes teared. "He's.....praying."

But when she heard the next lines her heart chilled.

"........Non odi tu la pieta de la suo pianto? Non vedi to la morte che l'combatte su la fiumanna ove 'l mar non ha vanto?....."

Again, she repeated his words, translating: "Do you not hear the anguish in his cry? Do you not see the death he wars against upon that river, ruthless as the sea?"

"....perché, perché restai?...." He groaned painfully.

"Why, why do you resist?"

"perché tanta vilta nel core allette?......or accorri, acorri morte!"

"Why does your heart host so much cowardice?.....now come, death, quickly come."

"...io sol uno..."

"I myself alone."

"lasciate ogne speranza...."

"…..Abandon all hope."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Epiphany – do you have the toxicology results for Damian Spinelli?"

"They just came in Dr. Hunter – Dr. Drake said to give them to him though."

"I'm working on the case too – I'll bring them to him." He held out his hand.

Epiphany sighed and handed him the test results. "You better not be getting into some doctor's pissing contest over Spinelli. He's important to a lot of people you know." She glowered at him.

"No pissing contest Epiphany. I'm worried about him too." He replied as he walked away reading. Matt's pace slowed as the information sank into his brain, a cold realization came over him as he saw just exactly what kind of poisons they had forced into his brother's body. Matt started running and did not stop until he reached his brother's room. Matt entered Spinelli's room and watching him as he slept. Maxie was sleeping in the chair near his bed, a blanket over her shoulders.

It was impossible to see him lying there and not be able to do a damn thing. He looked again at the list of chemicals in his system. They had been using his brother as a guinea pig; pumping his system full of drugs. They had found quantities of anti-psychotics and anti-depressants as well as Ritalin, amphetamines and steroids. They were trying to kill him as slowly and painfully as possible. He took in Spinelli's bruised face and needle tracked arms. Shakily, he clicked his flashlight and pulled open his eyelid examining his pupils. Spinelli jerked away as the light assaulted his eyes and bruised psyche.

Matt grew more anxious as he examined his brother. He pulled out his stethoscope and pulled his exam gown down, exposing his chest. As he saw the angry red slashes against his chest, he grew more uneasy and frenzied.

Maxie woke up when she heard Spinelli gasping and struggling. She took in the site of Matt looking like he was possessed as he examined Spinelli.

"Matt! What are you doing!? Matt!" She tried in vain to pull the doctor off him.

Jason and Patrick were approaching Spinelli's room and heard the commotion. When they ran in, they saw Dr. Hunter standing over Spinelli, his examination light in his eyes as he frantically checked his pupils.

Spinelli was thrashing against his restraints, trying to turn his head away as he whimpered in fear. "_No…please….stop_!" he cried out in silence.

"Matt!" Maxie shrieked. "Get off him Matt! You're scaring him!"

Jason threw his arm around Matt's neck and pulled him off. "Get off him! What are you doing??" Jason was about to kill the guy right then and there.

Maxie sat on Spinelli's bed stroking his head and trying to calm him. Spinelli's breath was coming in gasps as his eyes searched the room for his attackers. "Spin? It's ok – you're ok – he's not going to hurt you." She said soothingly to him then whispered angrily at Matt "What were you _thinking_???"

Matt was frantically shouting as Jason dragged him into the hallway. "You have to run tests God damn it! They probably fried his brain!! I'll kill them! I swear to God! He needs an EKG and a CT scan!! Dr. Drake – you need to do it!!"

Patrick looked at the usually stoic and arrogant intern with incredulity. "Shut _up_ Dr. Hunter! What the hell were you doing? You practically accost a patient – one that is highly volatile to begin with – and now you're ordering a chief resident around?! Who the hell are _you_ to tell _me_ anything about what I should be doing? You think you know better than I do about what tests we should be running on him? Who do you think you are!?"

"Who am _I_?" He laughed viciously. "I'm his _BROTHER_ damn it!!" He wrenched himself away from Jason's grip as he saw their startled expressions. "Yeah. His brother. Surprise." Matt ran his hands through his hair trying to gain his composure.

Jason was still shaking in rage. "He doesn't have a brother. He would have told me. He said his grandmother was his only family."

"Look, I'm sorry I lost it in there but - I'm not trying to pull something. It's true. If he was in any condition – he would be able to tell you himself."

"Why was it such a big secret?" Patrick asked.

"He didn't want anything to do with me. I can't say I blame him. God! Why is this happening to him again!?" He pulled at his hair with his fists.

"Again?" Jason's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean - _again_?"

"There's - something you need to know. You all do."


	12. Ashes and Embers

Authors Note:

Another Quick post! I hope you all are enjoying. Read, Enjoy and Review.

Remember - the italics are flashbacks.....

Chapter 12

Ashes and Embers

_Ted looked up from his steak after realizing how quiet the table had become. Clara and Matt were both looking at Damian, frozen in their seats. He was completely still, holding a dinner roll in his lap but not eating it, just staring off into space. Ted dropped his fork loudly on the plate. Damian didn't even flinch._

_"Hey Day..." Ted stood up slowly from the table, walking over to Damian's spot, crouching down beside him._

_Damian blinked a little, looking back at him with glassy eyes. "Yesss da-dad-dadd-" He stuttered horribly and he sagged against his chair._

_"Aren't you going to eat? Your mom made you a nice dinner." He asked nervously._

_Damian shook his head slowly, his little shaking hand placing the roll back on his plate. Ted felt his son's forehead for a fever. His skin was clammy and cool._

_"You feel okay, Day?"_

_"Dad, he was fine earlier--" Matt interrupted._

_"Shhh. Matthew." Clara hushed him. "Ted, I told you we've been having issues all day. He's not interested in food..."_

_Ted lifted Damian from the chair and cradled him a little. "Lets put you to bed, okay bud? I think you're coming down with something."_

_"You know there is more to it, Ted - you're in denial." Clara barked, tossing her napkin on the table with an annoyed scowl._

_Matt watched his parents go back and forth with sighs of frustration and silent communication with their eyes as his father took the small boy out of the dining room and then upstairs._

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

_Matt stood in his little brother's doorway as his father rocked Day. He was limp and his eyes stared listlessly into space. Matt's hair stood up on his arms as he watched his father running his hands through Day's hair. Whenever he was sick or had a nightmare - which seemed to be more and more often lately - he would run his fingers through his mop of hair and it seemed to soothe him. But he didn't seem to need soothing. He didn't even seem like he was there. He no longer replied when his father asked him a question. His eyes no longer saw any of them.  
_

_"How did I miss it Day? My Little Day."_

_Clara's voice came from behind Matt "I've been telling you he needs help Ted! But you wouldn't listen. He's a disturbed little boy, Ted. Damian has been growing more and more out of it every day. I tried to tell you." She had a strange look on her face, a mixture of determination and satisfaction._

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

_Matt watched his father as he forlornly peered through the glass as his Little Day rocked in a glassy eyed stupor. The little boy rocked back and forth as he sung a lullaby softly to himself. It was one Ted had sung to both of them when they were babies.  
_

_How could this have happened to his little brother? The little boy who jumped up and down and danced from foot to foot in his excited way as he tried to get his words out to tell a story. The same little boy who kept that stupid dictionary tucked under his arm every waking hour of the day._

_He was vacant, trapped within his mind. What was he thinking? Was he scared in there? Did he wonder where he was and why he was in this terrible place? Did he miss his family?_

_Tears rolled down Ted's face as he turned away, unable to watch anymore. He hugged his other son and held the dictionary against his chest. They both prayed for it all to be okay again; for their Little Day to come back to them._

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

_"James, I want to discuss taking him home. He's been here for over two years. It's been three months since he had any incident. He's talking really well now. Hardly stuttering at all. His vocabulary is better than mine. I really want to think about taking him home."  
_

_Matt sat on the sofa in his uncle's office pretending to read a fishing magazine. But he listened as his father and uncle argued in polite yet strained tones._

_"Ted look, I don't think that is a good idea. He is doing well. That's true. But anything could set him back. His moods are highly unstable. The hospital is comfortable for him. If he goes home, he could very likely relapse."_

_"James, every week he begs me to take him home. He can't be that comfortable here. He seems – I don't know – scared of something."_

_"Nonsense. What could he possibly be scared of?"_

_"He says they're always giving him shots. What is that about?"_

_"Ted – he's in a mental hospital! Of course he gets shots! It's medication. You have to remember that he is a child and shots can be scary but they are not unduly traumatic - and they are necessary. Look, maybe in a few more months, if he is still doing well, we can reassess outpatient care. But as his doctor and as your brother-in-law, I am giving you the best advice I can give. He needs to stay here for the time being. I'm truly sorry to have to say all this but it is for his own good."_

_"I'm sorry too James – I think I want a second opinion."_

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

_"Mrs. Hunter?" The doctor approached Matt and his mother in the hallway. Matt was only 15 but he had seen enough TV to know what that look meant. His father was gone. When the ambulance arrived he had heard the words Massive Coronary and he knew. But that look on the doctors face, a mixture of forced concern and impatience and fake sympathy - he didn't need or want to hear the words. He turned and walked away down the hall.  
_

_How was he going to tell Day?_

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

_"Matty!? D-daddy said he was coming to take me home! But she – she said he is never coming! She says he is dead! She's lying! She's lying! Matty!?"  
_

_Matt silently cursed his own mother. She had insisted that she tell the little boy by herself and now he was in hysterics._

_"Day. I – he's – he's gone Day. But I'm going to take care of you. It's going to be all right. I promise." He held his little brother and rocked him like his father would have done._

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

_"We are not going to be able to have him live here Matthew. It's not possible."  
_

_"What – what are you talking about? He has to come home! Dad promised him – I promised him!"_

_"Matthew! He requires special attention - which I have neither the time nor the training to give him. Look how he reacted to his father's death – he had to be sedated again. Besides, I am not even his real mother. You know the whole story of his birth – I only let him live here as a favor to your father. I can't be expected to raise a child from your father's affair – one that is – well Matthew let's face it – mentally challenged."_

_"B – but I'm his brother! I promised him I would take care of him! And he is not mentally challenged! He is smarter than I am!"_

_"Matthew – I am not going to discuss this further. You will be going off to Harvard and then medical school in a few years and then what!? You expect me to live with the little fr-"_

_She stopped herself but Matt remembered all too well the names she had always called his brother. "It's just not possible Matthew. End of discussion. Now - I am going to be late for my Junior League meeting if I don't leave right now." She picked up her keys, kissed him coldly on the cheek and walked out._

_OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO_

"She wouldn't take me to visit him after that. She said that it would distract me from school." Matt hung his head in shame. "I tried to sneak up there a couple times – take the bus up to the hospital - but my uncle – he would tell her and she would completely flip out. Then, he was gone. She signed him over to the state and she told me he was sent to live with his grandmother in Tennessee. She said it was better that he go live with his real family. I-" He shook his head. "I should have done something! I wasn't old enough to fight her but – I – he was my little brother for God's sake!" Matt slammed his fist on the table in front of him and put his head in his hands.

Jason, Maxie, Patrick, Robin and Dr. Jordan were all assembled around the table as Matt told of Spinelli's childhood.

"What was he diagnosed with Dr. Hunter?" Dr. Jordan asked, pen poised over her chart.

"I – I don't - know exactly but – there is something else. Something that I never wanted to say out loud – never wanted to admit to anyone not even myself."

"What is it?" Jason demanded.

"Just before Day went into the hospital – before it got really bad – my uncle visited. I walked into my brother's room and – my mother was holding him down and my uncle was giving him a shot of something. My mother told me it was a sedative – told me not to tell my father – that he would get upset. I don't know what it was but – that afternoon, he got really bad. I - I think my uncle gave him something – some kind of drug – to make him look like he was crazy."

"Oh my God." Maxie sat looking at Matt in horror. Spinelli had been through all this before.

"Munchausin by Proxy?" Patrick asked Dr. Jordan.

"Possibly. I would have to see his medical records from back then. But I would imagine they would be almost impossible to get – especially if the uncle was involved. They were probably destroyed or altered."

Matt continued speaking very low. "They sent him in there and treated him for things he didn't have...when really, all he did was stutter." Matt scoffed. "And, you know what? He didn't stutter so much when he wasn't around my mother!"

"What kind of person would do something like that to a child?" Maxie sobbed. This was _her_ Spinelli they were talking about, suffering like this, being alone like this even as a little boy. Her heart ached as she pictured Little Day.

"My dad strayed from my mother." Matt sighed. "Damian's mom died in birth - which is a little damn convenient if you ask me. I have my suspicions about that too. You would have to know my mother, how cold and calculating she is." He added darkly. "Understand, my mother never forgot, never forgave for a moment that my father strayed from her. From the age he was five until he was eight, my mother conspired to keep my brother away from my father, out of some revenge for his affair. His sins were passed down to Damian…and now Spinelli is going through that hell all over again."


	13. Dialogues

Lindsay: Now tell me this isn't an awesome chapter? Yeah.

Stephanie: Enjoy the Chapter – you'll hear the deal later….

Chapter 13

Dialogues

_"He'll kill you...you killed her." Spinelli rasped, his throat raw from screaming._

_Anthony swiveled slightly in his wheelchair and laughed. "Why would he kill me? She's just anoth er nurse, right? You know - you keep threatening me with Jason. Jason cares a lot for you doesn't he? That's a little - strange – don't you think? Two grown men."_

_Frank snickered. A flush rose in Spinelli's cheeks at the implication of Anthony's words. This was the worst torture of all. Worse than the pain, the pills…No, that was just surface, shallow agony. The way this man knew how to rape his mind, pushing and pulling his fears and doubts and secret miserable angst into the light for examination in ways Spinelli had never wanted—this was the real torture._

"_Does Jason tell you how much he cares about you?" Anthony leaned over, emphasizing 'cares' with a wink and suggestive grin. " I bet he really is going crazy trying to find you....it's __**touching**__, really - no pun intended."_

"_It's not like that," Spinelli snapped._

_"Oh - well, excuse me...I was just voicing the opinion of some of my bodyguards...real gossips, you know. So, if it's not like that then - what is it like?"_

"_He's my friend," Spinelli replied in agony, dropping his head to his knees. If Anthony were not here he would take the time to weep. This bastard had no idea how much it hurt to hear him try and distort his and Jason's relationship with his suggestions about their being more to it. Friendship was something he'd prayed for his entire life, just to have one God damn person care about him and not use him or forget him in a passing glance. To Spinelli, a friend was the most absolute precious gift he'd ever received. Anthony was peeling back the wrapping paper before Christmas morning, spoiling the surprise._

_"Oh - your friend - your __**special**__ friend? Are you like best friends?" Anthony clapped his hands excitedly, with more energy than Spinelli had expected from the old man. "Does he tell you everything?"_

_"No. Yes. N-NO." Spinelli stuttered, looking at his captor over the hills of his knees._

_Anthony cocked his head. "Oh...I'm confused - so he doesn't – does - doesn't - tell you everything? Interesting....does he tell you about Ms. Webber?"_

_Spinelli hesitated, not knowing what the right answer would be. He swallowed. There had to be a right answer, right?_

_"So, Jason cares about her - loves her even?" Anthon y snapped his fingers in an "aw, shucks" fashion. "Oops – sorry - loved her I mean."_

_Closing his eyes tightly, Spinelli tried not to hear the gunshots ringing in his head._

"_How did you feel about that? Did it make you jealous? Did you think about what would happen if they were to get married? Her and her two boys would move in, Morgan would be their new daddy - that would have kind of pushed you out of the picture wouldn't it? So - are you relieved she's dead?"_

"_Shut up!" Spinelli barked. _

_Anthony ignored him. He leaned back in his wheelchair, thoughtful._

"_Boy – is Morgan going to be pissed at you. After all, she would still be alive if not for you. But then again, maybe Morgan will forgive you – your precious friend Jason. After all – you have a special bond. Hmm? You know, I think I know why you really relate to him though..."_

_Anthony paused for dramatic effect and Spinelli repressed the urge to roll his eyes, not willing to aggravate the old ma just for a little bit of his own mockery. Anthony lowered his eyes before he continued, picking at a stray thread on his shirt. Spinelli watched as he pulled on it slowly, making it longer and longer…_

"_You miss Daddy, don't you" His tone was low, dark. He swiftly tugged the loose thread from his shirt. Slowly, Anthony raised his eyes to meet Spinelli's gaze._

"_Do you think of him like a father?" he asked, squinting. His voice got even lower, almost a whisper. "Well...that's a little weird too isn't it? Do you loooove him Mr. Spinelli?"_

_Spinelli tasted salt in his mouth and realized he'd failed at trying to hold back his emotions._

"_That works I guess...Jason doesn't have any children...so, he adopted you! Hmmm....Jason doesn't have any children...right, Sunshine?...You don't have a little brother out there do you?"_

_Shit. Spinelli swallowed. He was a terrible liar. Spinelli prayed they wouldn't continue down this road much further._

_Spinelli swallowed. "S-Stone Cold doesn't have any kid's."_

_"I never said that he did – did I say that? I was just making conversation.", Anthony said with a smirk. "Hey, by the way - have you seen that Jacob Martin Spencer?" _

_Spinelli was pretty sure his heart was about to explode. There was no drug they could give him to make it rush as fast as panic could._

"_He's a sweet kid..." he pattered on. "Ms. Webber was going to pick him up from daycare when we nabbed her. Wait - I saw how sweet you and Miss Elizabeth looked together – so sweet, so tender…..YOU aren't his daddy are you? Oh, right - surely not. You are all in love with Maxie Jones....in any case, he doesn't look much like that Lucky Spencer does he? Huh…Jacob Martin – well, __**that**__ is a bit strange - his initials are the same as Jason Morgan. That is __**so**__ strange. Don't you think?"_

_Spinelli shook his head in defeat. They were discussing a little boy who's mother was just ripped from the world like it was the weather. This time, he'd die before they tried to get him to admit anything that would put the child at risk._

_"You know, I think a love like yours and Morgan's should have friendship bracelets....darn.....I don't have any twine otherwise I'd help you make yours...But you know...I __**do**__ have this!"_

_Anthony took out a knife. Spinelli eyed it as icy sweat rolled down his spine. "For a looooove as deep and special, shouldn't you have a permanent reminder of it? A bracelet that lasts forever?" _

_Then Anthony Zacharra did something more terrifying than brandishing his knife, or shooting a woman in front of him, or even subjecting him to constant torture. The crippled old man stood, actually STOOD up from his wheelchair._

_The monster had wings._

_The shock was so much that Spinelli almost passed out from terror, spooked at the unexpected witchcraft his captor seemed to hold. Stomping heavily over to the corner of the cell where Spinelli had been crouching, he grabbed Spinelli's broken wrist – sending an excruciatingly sharp pain through it, and ripped him off the ground roughly._

_"Well, can't do it to this hand....this hand is all broken..." Anthony purred, delighting in Spinelli's fear, which was so strong at the moment that he was having trouble standing. His legs wanted to buckle. "Ms Webber did a good job bandaging it though, didn't she? She was such a good nurse. Such a pity....Let's see, other hand."_

_Spinelli shook his head. _

"_I said hold it out – unless you want me to have Frank break that one too."_

_Spinelli slowly held out his arm, which was shaking uncontrollably. He felt the blade run across his flesh and Spinelli ceased to be in the room, sinking into a dark corner of his mind to ride out the rest of this storm. Anthony practically cooed at him from some distant reality._

_"Now, hold reeealllll still - don't scream or I could JUMP and accidentally slice deep....hold still Spinny - Jason's pet. I'm aalllmost done. There - done - nice, right?" He handed the knife back to Frank as Spinelli stared in horror at the bloodied metal, flopping back down on the ground hard as his stomach did flip flops. Anthony plunked himself back in his wheelchair and grinned at the hyperventilating mess he'd left Spinelli._

_"Haha...Jason's pet...need a collar to match?" Frank touched Spinelli's neck with the blade._

_For a moment, Spinelli heard a thought ring very clearly in his mind. "They are going to drive you insane."_

"_Oh – leave him alone, Frank. I think it's sweet. Now you are friends forever."_

_Well, Anthony had finally done it. It took mocking and torture, but he had successfully perverted his and Jason's relationship beyond recognition. If he lived long enough for the cut to scar, there wouldn't be a day that went by that Spinelli couldn't look down at his own body and be reminded of the price he paid for knowing Jason, for being loyal to him, for hoping his mentor and friend would come and save him like he did for so many others. _

"_So – if you two are like brothers – what about your real brother?" Anthony pondered. " That leaves him out in the cold, does it not?" _

_It took Spinelli a moment to realize how destructive that comment was. "Where-" Spinelli gulped._

"_Where did I find that out? In your files boy!!" He patted him on the head. "In your laptop files!! I told you – we know everything – everything. We even read your journals - very riveting stuff."_

_Spinelli's heart sunk. He'd put stuff on his laptop, secrets, that he had never meant to be shared. Those journals had been between him and God…Spinelli supposed it was only fitting Anthony knew it all, though, the punisher being his living god at the moment._

"_Poor kid – your brother abandons you when you are only eight and then not only does he show up out of the blue – but, he steals your woman out from under you?? Ooops." Anthony chuckled. "Poor choice of words I guess, eh Sunshine? Wow – now I have heard of cold before – but that is just – wow. You know – I have an idea - we could go pick him up for you – give him a good talking to - if you know what I mean."_

"_Leave him alone." Spinelli croaked._

"_Why? You don't even like him – isn't that right? You know what? I'll even make this easier – we'll pick him up and he can take your place. All you have to do it say the word." Spinelli was promptly poked in the forehead for emphasis._

" _Say the word and this will be all over – the brother you hate – the one who left you alone to become a rich doctor – because his mommy hated you – the one who stole your true love - he'll be here enduring all this and you w ill be free to be with your Maxie. What do you say?"_

_Spinelli felt the blood burning down his arm as it seeped from his flesh. "No," he hissed._

"_Are you sure? We can--"_

"_NO!"_

"_Wow – you are even loyal to the brother you hate – I am impressed."_

_With that, Anthony stared at him for a good minute in silence before nodding at Frank to wheel him out of the room._

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Sam sat by Spinelli's bed watching in agony as the young man who had called her The Goddess, writhed in the throes of a painful nightmare.

"I tried to be good. I'll be better... please….let me come home…I'll be real quiet…Mama won't even hear me.... I won' t even talk…" he sputtered. Sam moved her chair closer to Spinelli's bedside and spoke calmly to him, hoping to bring him out of whatever memory he was trapped in.

"Spinelli - you're going to be ok. Just think about good things - don't think about it. Think about Maxie. She is waiting for you. She looks so pretty today. She wore that yellow blouse you like - I think she wore it just for you."

Spinelli's breathing slowed. His hair was matted against his forehead and she tried to brush it off of his face. For a moment, his eyes fluttered and then opened. He gazed right at her, for the first time looking as though he actually saw reality.

"Fair Samantha?"

"Spinelli?" Sam's heart skipped a beat. He recognized her. "Yeah, sweetie. It's me. You're at General Hospital. You're ok now."

"What're you doing here? No. No - You need to get out before they come back…They'll hurt you….Tell Stone Cold where I am…Tell him where to find me…I can't find my way out."

Sam sighed. He wasn't quite back yet. "Spin...you're safe now, I promise"

"I - I can't see you! They turned out the lights again."

She panicked for a moment, thinking his sight had been affected. Then she realized he was still seeing the room he had been held in.

"No - no more of this...Oh, god....no more of this, please..."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Jason came around the corner still thinking about everything Matt Hunter had revealed to them about Spinelli's past just yesterday; he was met by Dr. Jordan.

"How is he today?"

"Mr. Morgan, I need to prepare you. His condition is, well – he is unresponsive."

"What does that mean?" Jason barked, angry that the doctor wouldn't just get to the point.

"He is in a sort of catatonic state."

Jason shuffled, confused. "But he was talking yesterday – I don't understand."

"It is probably temporary," the doctor assured him in "that tone", that condescendingly patronizing tone that all doctors used, hoping you would just sit back and shut up and let them do their jobs like a good little absorber of information. "Now that the drugs are wearing off and the hallucinations are decreasing, we have a whole new set of issues to deal with."

Dr. Jordan opened the door to Spinelli's room. Spinelli lie back in the bed, his head turned away from the door. As Jason went around the bed, he watched Spinelli's eyes. They appeared to be searching for something.

"Spinelli?" He tried to get his attention, waving his hand in front of the young man's face. "Hey buddy?"

Spinelli didn't respond. Jason lowered himself in the chair next to the bed and attempted to break through to Spinelli again. He found himself using that exact same tone that the doctor had used on him only a moment ago. It left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Maxie will be here in a little bit. She misses you." Jason paused. "You need to come back. I need you back."

At that, a single tear rolled down his cheek but still Spinelli did not move.

"What the **fuck** did they do to you?" Jason muttered as he ran his hands through his hair in frustration.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

_Ted looked up from his newspaper and spotted Damian sitting on the couch with bright red Kool-Aid in a glass. Ted was about to warn him to not spill it on the couch when he noticed his son's face flush pink._

_"You okay, Damian?"_

_Damian stood up slowly and nodded, reaching out a shaking hand to place the drink on the coffee table. In a moment of strong intuition, Ted knew what was going to happen before it di d. The glass slipped from his son's small quivering grasp, splashing red everywhere. The boy was already profusely stuttering out an apology before reaching down to pick the glass off the floor, but as he bent over he seemed to crash straight into the ground himself, cracking his head on the corner of the table in the process. Jumping up from his seat, Ted threw his paper to the ground and rushed over to his son, who was now sitting up and holding the cut on the side of his head, crying._

_"The CARPET!" he heard Clara screech from behind him._

_"Son, are you dizzy? Why did you fall over like that, huh?" Ted asked gently as he picked Damian off the ground. This was just one more incident to add to a list of growing things Damian seemed to doing on a daily basis. Falling over, dropping things, stumbling into objects. Clara bustled over to them and began blotting stain on the carpet wit h a throw blanket, cursing to herself._

_"Ted - there is something wrong with him - he is always falling! James thinks he may have a neurological disorder..."_

_"Nonsense Clara - he is just a little boy, little boys are clumsy."_

_But as he tried to soothe his son's crying as he carried him to the bathroom to bandage the cut, Ted's mind was reeling from his wife's accusation. Matt was standing in the doorway, watching the event unfold silently. They exchanged a grimace as Ted stepped passed him._

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Carly, Spinelli isn't like me – he's a good guy. He can't take what happened and wrap his head around it. We don't even know all of what happened in there."

"Jason, you can't blame yourself for what happened," the blonde muttered from the couch as she watched him pace her living room in frustration.

"Sure I can. It is my fault. They took him because he works for me. I should have never let him work for me – I should have gotten him out of=2 0the business. I should have learned my lesson from what happened to Michael."

"Spinelli is a grown man, he made his own decision to work for you," Carly added softly. She was trying to help him not feel so terribly guilty, but Jason was pretty there was no way he'd ever live this particular event down in his own heart.

"Carly – he's a grown man but--" Jason paused, gesturing with his hands, trying to make her understand. "I knew how he felt about me – he works for me because of his loyalty; because I'm his only family, like Sonny was for me. I should have done the right thing and fired him. Jax offered him a job – did you know that? And he turned it down because he didn't want to leave me – because I was always telling him how much I counted on him and needed him. He kept saying we were partners. I should have stopped it all a long time ago. I should have been a real brother to him and gotten him out of all of this."

"Jason, this is the same argument the Quartermaines always gave you and Sonny. How would you have felt if Sonny had done that to you? You would have been lost!"

"Well look at him! He _is_ lost! He can't speak, he doesn't even respond – they tortured him Carly. Tortured him. So what would have been better for him in the long run? Wouldn't you go back if you could and keep Michael away from Sonny and me? He would still be running around being a kid inst ead of lying in that hospital bed! And if I wasn't so selfish, Spinelli would be happily hacking into some government network for fun!"

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Maxie watched the man she loved, broken.

He was staring at the wall, his eyes moving across it as if he was reading something. Other than his eyes, he didn't move; he didn't eat, he didn't talk.

But she talked to him. Hour upon hour, she talked to him - until she could no longer bear the sound of her own voice in the otherwise silent room. She knew if he could he would tell her to shut up.

No – that wasn't true. He would never tell her that. Even if she drove him crazy, he was always sweet to her. He might suggest she "take a respite from her ministrations and go purchase herself a beverage down in the hospital cafeteria"….But he would never tell her to shut up.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Jason." Jason looked up to see his attorney striding down the hall, briefcase swinging.

"Diane. What are you doing here?"

"I am here to talk to my client."

"I – didn't call you. What do I need a lawyer for? I didn't do anything."

"Not you. Mr. Grasshopper. He hired me a few months ago."

"He did? For what?"

"Mr. Spinelli asked me to draw up a living will after Michael was shot. He was concerned that if something were to happen to him that he be properly taken care of."

Diane pursed her lips as if she was about to say something more.

"What Diane?"

"Well, I suppose it would not be breaking confidentiality to tell you that Mr. Spinelli seemed adamant that he not be put into a residence such as the one Michael is in. He seemed almost petrified of that happening."

"Diane – that's not going to happen. He's going to get better."

"Of course he is." She said with false confidence. "He just needs some time…..Jason, just so you know – he named you as executor."

"He did?"

"Yes. He knew you would always do what is best for him." Diane looked pointedly at Jason. "May I go in?"

Jason nodded then stopped her. "Diane – he's – not the Spinelli you know."

Diane nodded curtly then entered Spinelli's room.

"Good morning Mr. Grasshopper." She said as she put her briefcase down on the small table. She studied her client. Noting the bruises and cuts, she shivered despite herself; she inexplicably felt nervous which, was not a feeling familiar to her. Spinelli was sitting up and staring at the television. Someone had put cartoons on for him, which insulted Diane. They were treating him like a child now? After all he'd endured? They had that kind of audacity? Indeed, Sponge Bob was laughing maniacally on the screen, but Spinelli remained expressionless as he rubbed the satin binding on the blanket between his thumb and forefinger over and over. Well, if the hospital staff didn't have the decency to treat her client like an adult, she sure as hell would. He'd earned that much.

"Jason says that you are feeling a bit uncommunicative today. But, no matter. I just want you to know that as your attorney, I will be looking out for your best interests. You do not need to worry about a thing. Jason, of course, is taking care of all your medical arrangements and bills and soon you will be on the mend and home."

Diane searched his face fo r any sign of recognition. Her blood chilled as she watched his bruised and slashed hands start to move as if they were typing on a phantom keyboard.

"I know you aren't feeling very well right now. That is understandable. You take your time, don't rush it. I have to say though Mr. Grasshopper, I do miss our witty banter."

She patted him gently on the hand. His icy skin sent a jolt through her. She couldn't help but be completely uncomfortable in the face of such evil that had evidently been inflicted upon the young man. Letting out a shallow breath, Diane decided it best to leave.

"Well, I don't want to tire you. You take care." Diane looked at Spinelli and then to the door to make sure no one was watching. She gave him a brief, gentle kiss on the forehead. Spinelli's eyes suddenly shifted and held hers for just a moment in an expression of what seemed to her like gratitude. Diane felt that murky green recognition pin her to the floor. Spinelli's eyes shifted back to the television, and only then could she move.

Diane felt her eyes tear for just a moment then cleared her throat. "Feel better Mr. Grasshopper." She straitened up, cleared her throat and resumed her brusque, lawyerly demeanor before gathering her briefcase and exiting into the hall.

"Jason, I will be available if either of you need me."

"Thanks Diane."

"Jason – " She looked pointedly at him. "- for anything."

OOOOOOOOOOOOOO

_Damian stood quaking in front of Clara – his jeans were ripped again. How many times had she told him that clothes were expensive and to be careful? How many times had she screamed at him that Daddy makes her buy expensive clothes for him even though he was a slob and a klutz? How many?_

_But no matter how many times she told him, he was always sloppy and messy. Why couldn't he be more like his brother Matt? He never ripped his clothes; he was never messy and dirty. Damian was always sloppy and looked like a homeless kid. _

_Damian knew when the kids pushed him down at school he was going to get in trouble. Telling Mama Clara what happened was no use. It would be his fault anyway. _

"_I told you before! You need to be more careful! **HOW** did this happen?"_

"_I – I - th – there were k-kids kids and th-they were p-pushing…."_

_Clara grew more and more impatient with Damian with each passing second. Why couldn't he just say a simple sentence without stuttering like a simpleton? "Just SAY IT!"_

_But she made him nervous and the more nervous he became, the worse his stuttering got. "Th-the k-ki-kids…"_

_Clara felt her anger boil over. "**JUST ANSWER ME!!**" Like a movie in slow motion, she watched her hand draw back and then cut the air in front of her, her palm slapping against the little boy's cheek._

_For a moment he sat on the ground dazed. Then, slowly, he looked up at her, his large eyes round and sad and defeated. Clara saw his eyes water and she grew even more furious. She just knew that was what his mother's eyes looked like - large and green - and she hated him for it. He was lucky she didn't pluck them out of their sockets._

_A flush of panic ran through her when she thought of her husband. She was not sorry for what she had done but realized what Ted would do if he knew. She yanked him to his feet and searched his face for signs of her hand. His cheek was slightly red but no more than if he had been running. Damian's eyes spilled over and he had started to cry. _

_"You're FINE - stop looking at me like that! You're fine! Stop crying! Stop it! I'll **GIVE** you something to cry about!" _

_Damian forced himself to stop crying, fearful of getting hit again, though his chin quivered slightly. _

_She yanked him off the ground. "Get out of my sight!" _

_Damian ran to his room to hide._

_Clara turned and saw Matt staring at her, an angry expression on his face. _

"_It's his own fault. He knows how to push my buttons. There is no need to tell your father about this. You know how he babies him. He'll just make a big thing out of it."_

_Clara walked away._

OK my sweet babies, here is the deal. I hope you enjoyed this part – and now I have a little challenge slash bribe slash game for you all. I have a second delicious part of this chapter. If I get 10 or more reviews for this part, I will post the second part tomorrow night. If not……well, I might just ****yawn**** be too tired. ;) LOL I hate to blackmail, but I know there are lovely people reading that I would love to hear from!


	14. Talk Shows on Mute

OK – you met my demands – BWAHAHAA – So here is your prize. The second portion of Dialogues – named Talk Shows On Mute.

There was a question in regards to Elizabeth – she IS alive. Anthony dragged her out of the room, made it sound like they shot her and dragged her away before she could let Spinelli know she was still alive. So, he THINKS she is dead and that he is at fault.

I cannot tell you too much about what will happen except that I DO believe in poetic justice and I DO believe in happy endings though not necessarily the bluebirds and butterflies, riding into the sunset, happily ever after kind.

Love, Stephanie (aka Bela, aka Rosie)

Spoilers for future chapters:

Matt helps his brother with something he needs.

Maxie and Spinelli bond……

Jason and Spinelli do "the guy thing" – but things go wrong…

The Jackal is not as helpless as everyone thinks.

Chapter 14

Talk Shows on Mute

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Spinelli felt himself pulled out of his slumber. He had a throbbing headache and his mouth felt like cotton. Looking around, he saw he was in the hospital. He tried to remember why he was in the here. Had he been sick?

His wrist was in a cast and his arms had cuts, so maybe it was a car accident.

When was the last time he was awake? He remembered pieces of dreams. Jason. Maxie. Claudia. But he could not remember talking to them. He only remembered their sad, scared faces. Maxie was crying. Claudia looked worried. Jason had eyes full of anger. He hoped he was not angry with him. Had he taken the bike again and crashed it? That had to be it.

He saw Maxie sleeping in a chair. He tried to ask for water but the word stuck and would not come out. Spinelli swallowed. His throat felt raw, like fire. He really needed the water.

Straining, he reached over to the table and felt his bruised ribs pull. His fingertips brushed the rim of the plastic jug and it tipped, spilling water over the table and onto the floor as the jug bounced off the floor, echoing in the silent room.

The noise reverberated in his head and violent flashes assaulted his nerves. A man in a wheelchair, needles, pain, fear, terrible voices, blood dripping down his arms and chest, the sound of a gunshot. He put his hands over his ears as he emitted a strangled cry and panted against the tormenting memories.

Maxie leapt up out of her chair and ran to his side. She pushed the call button and tried to calm him.

"Spinelli? Hey, you're ok. You're at GH and you're safe now! You're ok! Can you hear me? Spin? Hey! Calm down." She held him as best she could as he groaned and tried to push the memories away. But they would not go and kept battering his brain.

Doctors and nurses came rushing in; he saw the glint of a needle in a nurse's hand and knew she was trying to kill him. He tried to get away.

_Don't! I don't want anymore! Please! Don't do it! _ He shook his head desperately trying to get them to leave him alone. But his words would not come. They held him down, as he knew they would. The needle sunk into his hip and he felt the familiar and terrifying darkness come.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

"_Helloooo, Mr. Spinelli. How are you this morning?"_

_Spinelli looked at Anthony without replying. Today, Spinelli had made the firm decision that he wasn't going to play anymore. He was taking his toys and going home, so to speak. They wanted to mess with him, and he wasn't going to have it. He would sit quietly, stare at the wall behind Anthony's head, and simply blank out. At least, that was the plan._

"_Oh, if you aren't going to talk, I'll find a way to make you talk. Let's not make this difficult."_

_Spinelli glared at him, still unwilling to do anything Anthony requested without putting up some sort of fight._

"_You don't want to defy me, boy. You should be thanking me for the very air you breathe at this point."_

_He wasn't going to give in without making them work for it._

"_Frank, come in here, he's being uncooperative._

_Spinelli's breath sped up at the sight of his main tormentor. Just look at the wall…just look at the wall…just look at the wall…_

"_Yeah, boss?"_

"_Don't call me 'Boss' like some sort of heathen," Anthony barked darkly._

"_I'm sorry, Mr. Zacchara, what do you need?"_

"_Mr. 'Nelli here doesn't want to talk. I think that's a little rude."_

"_You're right, sir, it __**is**__ rude." Frank pulled a pistol out of the waist of his jeans and pressed it to Spinelli's temple._

_Just look at the wall. They weren't going to pull the trigger. That wasn't part of the game. They just wanted him to think they'd pull the trigger. Just look at the wall._

"_What do you say to that, Spinny?_

_Spinelli smiled defiantly. "What do you want me to s-say?"_

"_Guns are really good things to get tongues wagging, I've noticed." He sighed. "Oh, Sunshine, I was in a good mood today until you started playing your little games. Why do you make it harder on yourself?"_

"_He's stuttering, Mr. Zacchara, like the file said."_

_Anthony and Frank laughed. The wall dissolved and reality came crashing back._

_Spinelli stared, horrified and confused. "F-File?"_

"_F-f-f-f-fff-file???" Frank mocked him. Spinelli suddenly noticed how hot the end of the gun was pressed to his temple, as if it had been recently fired._

_Anthony threw his head back in a single echoing laugh. "Yes, Mr. Jackal, we finally cracked the security on your top-secret files. The super duper secret ones, the ones you felt the need to hide even deeper than the rest…We have been finding some interesting things – really riveting reading, I was hoping you could fill in some holes for us though."_

"_I d-don't know what you're talking ab-bout."_

_Anthony pulled out some papers from his jacket pocket and smacked Spinelli in the face a few times with it. "The __**file**__, boy, the FILE...with all your juicy little details about your childhood."_

"_I don - It w-was a long time ag-go."_

"_Obviously not too long ago if you're still st-st-stu-stuttering."_

"_Yeah kid, you need to grow up a little." Frank interjected._

"_Shut up, Frank. Now, Jackal Boy, tell me...did they really screw with you in there?"_

_Spinelli blinked. "Where?"_

_Anthony dropped the papers over his head and let them fall like rain. "Where? The – what was it? 'The Edward L. MacDonald Memorial Center for Special Needs' - did they really screw you up or what?_

"_I – d-don't know," Spinelli answered stupidly, his eyes raking over the papers that surrounded him. He didn't want to look at them, didn't want to see stray words here an there like "autism" and "catatonic", things he knew were lies…_

_Anthony shuffled in his seat as if getting comfortable, preparing for a long story. "Well, I've had some men do some digging - I can't help it, you intrigue me, boy. I want to know what makes you tick - you wanna know what I found out?"_

"_N-n-no." Remember the wall…count the music notes…_

_Anthony continued, not acknowledging his answer._

"_Did you know there was a doctor that kept notes on you while you were in the facility?"_

_Actually, Spinelli didn't know that. He couldn't help but listen as Anthony continued. It looked as if the old man might actually have found out some information on him that he didn't already know._

_Yeah, this doctor seemed to think that you were misdiagnosed. Real young doctor, fresh out of school, just joined the hospital and for some reason just didn't agree with your diagnosis."_

"_I don't – kn-know what you mean." But, somehow Spinelli knew exactly where Anthony was going and didn't want to hear it._

"_Well...according to my research, this young doctor just found it fascinating how you would yo-yo back and forth through the week from showing signs of severe autism to being completely functional...He was new to the facility...only there a few weeks before he started running your bloodwork secretly...looking for hormone imbalances..."_

"_S-so what?" Spinelli asked, waiting with baited breath now._

"_So what?" Anthony shrugged nonchalantly. "So - he realized they had been giving you the wrong medication for years, Mr. Spinelli. You'd get a big dose of medication right before your father's weekly visit, in fact."_

_Well, Anthony had just saved him years of researching a theory he'd been attempting to confirm on his own…He'd always known he wasn't sick, didn't understand why he was ever put there, was told it was for his own good…_

"_Y-you don't know what you are t-talking about." But he did know, and that was the issue._

_Leaning over low in his chair, Anthony spoke calmly. "Oh I think I do, Jackal....Someone was screwing with your head for a very, very long time."_

_Spinelli hung his head in defeat._

"_Poor, sweet little Day - that's what daddy called you right? Day? His little Sunshiney Day! - all pushed away into the back of everyone's mind except for daddy's until one day someone caught the slip up and reported it. It was a little too late by then, wasn't it, Mr. Sunshine? By then - you were screwed up."_

"_You don't know any-any-anything."_

"_Daddy must have been furious...his little boy; his sweet, sweet little bastard son…" Anthony spit out the term of endearment for Spinelli's technical status._

"_Little bastard just had a little stuttering problem after all!"_

"_Shut up," Spinelli hissed. He concentrated on the words that time, made sure he wouldn't stutter, wouldn't give Anthony the satisfaction._

_Anthony launched out of his chair onto the ground in front of Spinelli. For a man who spent his days faking being in the need of a wheelchair, he was light on his feet. With his cold callused hands, he grabbed each side of Spinelli's face and jerked the young man's gaze to meet his own. Spinelli could smell his hot breath, count the age spots on his forehead. There was nowhere to look but into the eyes of hell itself._

"_Do you think he got really angry, D -D-D-Damian?"Anthony asked, shaking Spinelli's head in his hands._

_Spinelli clenched his jaw against the tears that threatened and he was certain that was what they wanted. "I – I" He tried to shake his head angrily out of the grip of the old man but Anthony clamped down on the his hair._

_Leaning forward, Anthony whispered. "I wonder...do you think he got furious enough, realizing that his poor, sweet, st-st-st-stuttering boy had been screwed up...that maybe it was just too much for his heart?"_

_Spinelli shuddered. He honestly didn t know…_

"_But then again – maybe he didn't care – after all he stuck you in that place and left you…"_

"_He was coming to get me before he died--he said so, he said so."_

_Anthony pet his head in a sympathetic manner. "Oh...yes...of course...."_

"_Mr. Zacchara...sounds like the kid killed his dad."_

_Spinelli choked on the bile that was rising in his throat. No. No, his father had just died, there was nothing anyone could do…Don't let them mess with your head!_

"_What a horrible thing for a son to do." Anthony shook his head in an imitation of sadness, rolling Spinelli's head on his shoulders._

"_I d-don't think--"_

"_It's okay, Sunshine...I'm sure it was all a big, big coincidence. Daddy has a heart attack the same week that Doctor Sherlock Holmes informed him about the horrible, tragic mix-up that potentially fried your brain...Cowinky-dinks happen all the time."_

_Spinelli did not reply. It was something that he had not wanted to think about and now he was being forced to._

_Anthony flung Spinelli's head backwards roughly as he released him, going to sit back in his chair. He took his time adjusting his clothing, commenting all the while._

"_I'm a father. I would be furious if I found out that my Johnny was drugged by my brother-in-law for three years. I'd be furious enough to kill someone..." he shrugged. "Maybe your dad wasn't furious enough to kill...but he could've been furious enough to die. His old ticker just quit tick tick tickin!"_

_Spinelli shook his head woefully. "Shut up."_

"_Oh! Ding, ding, ding! He's putting the pieces together!"_

"_You think a heart attack hurts, boss?" Frank wondered aloud._

"_I'll __**give**__ you a heart attack if you call me boss one more time."_

"_Sorry, Mr. Zacchara - Just askin'..."_

"_Oh, yes, I think it hurts. What a painful wait to die. Ever felt like your chest was going to explode, Nelli?" _

_Spinelli let out nothing more than a guttural choke. Yes, he knew what that felt like a hundred times over. In fact, he was feeling that now._

_Anthony cupped his hand to his ear. "What? I didn't hear you."_

_Spinelli's breath was labored and painful in his chest. Perhaps it was the feeling his father had just before his heart beat for the last time._

_Frank cocked the gun and pressed it once more to Spinelli's temple. "Answer him, kid!"_

"_I don't know, I don't know, I don't __**know!"**_

"_Awwwww...Poor kid. I think I hit a nerve. It's okay, Nelli...I've killed people too. We can be blood brothers." Anthony chuckled._

"_S-s-stop! G-go to Hell!"_

"_What did you say, boy? I'm trying to bond with you, and you are going to curse me to hell?"_

_Frank pressed the gun harder into his temple._

"_**Just pull the trigger, God damn it!**__" Spinelli screeched in desperation._

"_Ooooh...A little feisty still."_

"_Kid, I can pull the trigger if you really, really want me to." Frank licked his lips, aching to see blood._

"_Leave me alone! Why are you here doing this? The Jackal doesn't have anything to--"_

"_THE JACKAL! There it __**is**__!" Anthony whooped and hollered, laughing so hard he started to double over, slapping his knee. When he spoke next it was through a tearful bout of what could only be described as giggles._

"_That's what I've been waiting for __**all**__ day. I love it when you call yourself that...It makes me realize that someone else is even more messed up than me! __**I**__ don't speak in third person. Is that one of the things that happened because of the bad meds? You got a little split personality thing going on upstairs?"_

"_It's so weird." Frank mused._

"_Shhh Frank, the big boys are talking here...But you know, now that I think about it... It is really annoying....SO you know what I'm going to do?"_

_Spinelli shrunk back, wondering what fresh Hell he was about to be put through. "Wh-what?"_

_Anthony shrugged lightly. "I'm going to call you by your real name. Damian, isn't it? Yeah. Damian. No more of this Jackal stuff... You call yourself The Jackal just one more time – and I will make you wish you were dead. Got it?"_

_Spinelli didn't know how to reply. Was the old geezer serious?_

"_Because, I think you should learn your name, son. It's not good to not know your own name. What if you got lost in a supermarket? You wouldn't be able to tell the nice policemen who you were."_

"_I – kn-know my name," Spinelli muttered, not understanding where this was going. What did it matter what they called him? What he called himself?_

"_Did mommy name you?" he asked earnestly. "Why would you not want to use the name your Mommy gave you, huh? I know you were Daddy's Sunshiney Day but what happened to __**Mommy**__?"_

"_Dead." Spinelli replied, unwilling to elaborate._

"_Oh...Nothing more to that story then, eh?"_

"_No." Spinelli shuffled away from Frank's pistol, towards the corner. When Frank made a move towards him, Anthony waved him away._

"_Come, boy. Let's not play games. I am an old man and I am tired, so cooperate. How did it happen?"_

_Spinelli sighed. "Giving birth to me."_

_Anthony smiled. "She was your father's whore wasn't she?"_

_Spinelli would have launched up from the floor if he hadn't seen the pistol come closer to his head._

"_Shut up, you don't know anything!"_

"_**All**__ women are whores, simple and plain."_

"_My mother was __**not**__ a whore."_

"_Your stepmother seemed to think she was. After all – your mother __**did**__ sleep with her husband. Maybe that's why Clara had her brother go visit her the day you were born." _

_Spinelli's face drained of blood – this was something else his research had not turned up. _

"_Wh-what?"_

"_There is a police report that spells it all out. Didn't you read the __**police report**__? No? Tsk, tsk – I thought you were more thorough than that." _

_Anthony started speaking as if to a small child. "The ambulance driver called the police. Apparently, before she went into cardiac arrest, your mother was screaming something about being poisoned. They didn't find anything out of the ordinary – but it's funny, isn't it? It was strangely timed. Very shortly after your step-uncle visited her, she went into early labor with you. I only mention it because he had a penchant for slipping people drugs that weren't so good for them. But I am __**sure**__ that wasn't the case at all. I am sure it was just your __**birth**__ that killed her. So, in essence you killed BOTH your parents. Wow – even I'M not that bad."_

_That time, Spinelli couldn't hold back the bile in his throat and he gagged, spitting vomit on the ground, aiming for Franks shoes._

"_God why do you--" Spinelli moaned as he heaved._

_Anthony's demeanor turned from sarcasm to anger in a second._

"_**God**__? God has nothing to do with this, boy. Better get that through your head now. There __**is**__ no God here. No God; no hope. Not for you."_

"_Abandon hope, all who enter here," Frank laughed, side stepping away from the mess on the floor._

"_You've read Inferno, Frank? I didn't take you for a reader..." Anthony frowned._

"_Naw – I'm not much of a reader – I saw it in a movie."_

"_I'll bet Damian here has read it, haven't you Sunshine? So, let me ask you – just how many deaths are you responsible for? Let's see – Daddy…Mommy, of course….Nurse Webber. Then there's that other girl - she was a book nerd too, wasn't she...?_

_Spinelli's head started to feel light and he struggled to keep his mind straight. "Who?"_

"_Don't play coy, Sunshine. Your little friend....the dead one...Georgianna..."_

_Spinelli started to shake. "Don't talk about Georgie!"_

_Frank smiled evilly. "Big mistake Mr. Spinelli."_

"_Shut up, Frank. She was one of those goody two shoes wasn't she, Sunshine? Did you like her? I hear she really liked you...she was in loooooove with you."_

"_**Stop.**__"_

"_Yes. I read the pretty, poetic letters she wrote. She was such a dear girl. Oh...but she was too __**plain**__ wasn't she...you didn't notice her until she was a corpse on the concrete..."_

_Frank interrupted. "Now, her sister on the other hand…" He let out a long whistle and smiled lecherously._

"_Oh yeah, well her sister is a whole 'nother story, isn't she, Sunshine? Real good-looking bird there, right? Were you too busy looking to score with the sister that you just completely looked past Miss Georgianna?"_

_Spinelli shook his head and wished he could disappear._

"_Oh wait, I'm sorry, it was the other girl wasn't it...the blonde girl...Sorry, the OTHER blonde girl. You know for a screwed up, dorky kid, you have so many women around – even __**I**__ get confused." Anthony laughed._

"_Let me clarify - Looo Loo Spencer - she distracted you a lot, didn't she? I saw all that lovely poetry on your computer about her..."_

_Spinelli's skin flushed a boiling red._

"_Poor Georgianna Jones just couldn't find a boy to take her out...until, of course, she found a boy to – take - her – __**OUT**__!" Anthony annunciate each word, punching his fist in the air. _

"_Aaaaah – I crack myself up. Tell me, how many nights do you lie awake wondering if she would still be alive if you had noticed her in time? Wondering if you can get the feeling of her ice skin off of your fingertips? There are a lot of cold nights, aren't there, Mr. Jackal? You wonder if anyone will ever love you again, don't you? Poor fella. Georgianna loved you and you didn't even know it. You love Maxie and she couldn't care less."_

_Spinelli felt as if his mind was slipping sideways._

"_But that Georgie – she's old news right? It's all about __**Maxie**__ Jones, now, isn't it? Another blonde who is repulsed by your advvances. Glutton for punishment, aren't you? Hey – you think that borrowed ticker of hers is enough to keep her going if someone slips a little something into her morning latte?...Two sisters dead...how's that, Damian?"_

"_Leave her alone," Spinelli murmured, hearing his own voice come out sounding like a child's._

_Anthony groaned sarcastically. "ohhhhh. You are __**really**__ bad at playing this game, Damian! The more you say, the more I know about you.... the more __**weapons**__ I get."_

_It was Spinelli's turn to laugh hysterically, his nerves having no other way to be expressed. "If I'm silent you'll blow my brains out."_

"_OH...True statement. Self-preservation is __**always**__ more important than the lives of others. You just keep feeding me your weaknesses, Damian...and I'll make a list...and one day, I'll just walk in here and inform you that someone else you love is dead....That's a nice plan actually..."_

_Spinelli's head buzzed. He felt a need for the drugs – actually wanted them for once. Just to make this go away._

"_And now he's quiet."_

_Frank went back over to Spinelli and pressed the gun into his cheek. Spinelli closed his eyes and waited calmly. He didn't even know what he was waiting for. But if it was the end – he no longer cared._

"_Maxie Jones has a purple sweater in the back of her closet with a tiny M pendant on it." Anthony said ominously._

_Spinelli's eyes few open._

"_Oh yes, Damian. We've been in her house, her room, her closet. We have her car keys, her schedule - we can get to her any time we like. Give me a reason... give me no reason at all...say the wrong thing...and she's dead. And __**this**__ time there will be no ifs, ands or buts about it ...you would have killed her."_

OOOOOOOOOOOOO

"Spinelli? Can you hear me? Can you wake up?" A familiar voice called his name.

_My name is Damian._

"Spinelli?"

_It's Damian!! _His eyes opened with a start. _My name is not Spinelli – it's Damian. _His mind argued with the voice.

"Hey, Spinelli? It's Dr. Scorpio. Are you with us?"

_It's Damian. _Spinelli tried to sit up but it was difficult, his ribs hurt and his left wrist was in a cast and useless. The small brunette helped him sit up against the pillows.

He looked around the room. He saw Jason and Maxie, Patrick and the doctor who had seen him the night Jason brought him to GH after the gun incident. They were all looking at him and it made him nervous. His stomach hurt.

"Mr. Spinelli, do you know why you are here?"

He looked blankly at the doctor. He was supposed to answer. He knew that. But what was the right answer? He knew he needed to give the right answer. He opened his mouth and nervously closed it again. He felt panicky. What was the answer?

"It's ok Mr. Spinelli. We'll start with an easier one. Do you know your name?"

_Damian _his brain said but his mouth would not cooperate. _Damian._ His lips tried to form the word. His voice stuck. He shook his head.

"You don't know? You can't remember?" The doctor looked concerned.

He nodded his head fervently and tried again._ I know who I am!! Damian._ He began to shake – what was happening? Why wouldn't his words come out? _Damian! Damian!_ He pointed to his throat and shook his head.

"You can't speak? Does your throat hurt?"

He shook his head again. He looked around the room and saw the faces of Maxie and Jason. They looked scared again, and it was all his fault.

The doctor took out a small flashlight. "Open your mouth please."

He shrank away from the instrument. He didn't want anyone to touch him; couldn't they do anything without touching him??

"It's ok Spinelli – she won't hurt you." Maxie said soothingly.

He closed his eyes. _It's Damian. _He thought in a defeated attitude and reluctantly opened his mouth. He felt her hand touch his chin and he tensed up. He felt a panic attack starting as she shined the light into his throat.

"Can you make _any_ noise? Say Aaah?" She asked him.

A cold sweat broke out on his skin. He felt like he was going to be sick. The panicky feeling got too intense; he jerked away from her grip and shook his head. His breathing was rapid and his hands shook as he slid back down in bed away from her. He wrapped his arms around himself, trying to hold his crashing world together.

"Ok Mr. Spinelli. Perhaps it is too soon. Don't push yourself. We'll try again. Get some rest."

Maxie came close and he relaxed a little. "Spinelli? It's ok. Yo u're going to be alright."

He shook his head again and crushed his palms to his eye sockets as tears sprang into them. _It's Damian – __**not**__ Spinelli. _Angry resignation made him tired again and he pulled his knees up to his chest, though it made him hurt all over.

Maxie hugged him close, trying to comfort him as he leaned into her embrace. She looked at Jason across the room. He had a strange look on his face. If Maxie had to guess, it looked like his world was collapsing.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Please review. Thanks!!


	15. Comfortably Numb

**Sorry we dropped this fic – no excuses for it – just explanations. Life. Please read and review. Remember too that a lot has happened on the show since this was started so this skews almost to alternate reality. Matt is not Pat's brother or Noah's son. Aiden does not exist and Liz and Jason are still in a tenuous relationship. Johnny and Lulu are still together at this point – there is no Dante (BTW, I find it amusing that after I published this fic based on Dante Alleghieri's Inferno – they come up with a character of Dante – as well as the split in personality of Spin recently – but I digress – coincidences, I suppose).**

**SEEKER is not going to be co-writing at this point but she will be consulting, reading and adding suggestions - plus a lot of the plot we hashed out before so her hand is still in this.  
**

**If you review, I will post again soon. I have some yummy things in store in the future for our boy.**

_**(COMFORTABLY NUMB LYRICS: GILMORE/WATERS)**_

_**Hello, hello, hello**_  
_**Is there anybody in there?**_  
_**Just nod if you can hear me.**_  
_**Is there anyone at home?**_

_**Come on, come on down,**_  
_**I hear you're feeling down.**_  
_**Well I can ease your pain,**_  
_**Get you on your feet again.**_

_**Relax, relax, relax**_  
_**I need some information first.**_  
_**Just the basic facts.**_  
_**Can you show me where it hurts?**_

_**There is no pain, you are receding.**_  
_**A distant ship's smoke on the horizon.**_  
_**You are only coming through in waves.**_  
_**Your lips move, but I can't hear what you're saying.**_

_**When I was a child, I had a fever.**_  
_**My hands felt just like two balloons.**_  
_**Now I've got that feeling once again.**_  
_**I can't explain, you would not understand.**_  
_**This is not how I am.**_

_**OK, OK, OK**_  
_**Just a little pin prick.**_  
_**There'll be no more, aaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhh,**_  
_**But you may feel a little sick.**_

_**Can you stand up, stand up, stand up.**_  
_**I do believe it's working good.**_  
_**That'll keep you going for the show.**_  
_**Come on, it's time to go.**_

_**There is no pain, you are receding.**_  
_**A distant ship's smoke on the horizon.**_  
_**You are only coming through in waves.**_  
_**Your lips move, but I can't hear what you're saying.**_

_**When I was a child, I caught a fleeting glimpse**_  
_**Out of the corner of my eye.**_  
_**I turned to look, but it was gone.**_  
_**I cannot put my finger on it now.**_  
_**The child has grown, the dream is gone.**_

_**I have become**_

_**Comfortably Numb**_

"Mr. Morgan, I need you to truly grasp the strain that his mind is under right now...torture is...well in laymen's terms - it wrecks minds."

"What do you mean?"

"Torture is so much deeper than any cut into skin. There are levels upon levels of problems going on in his head right now that he doesn't even have to be able to speak about and I know they are an issue."

"Like what?"

"Like...first of all, he lost his ability to control what happened to him. I hope you don't take this the wrong way, but you seem like a man that needs to be in control of what happens to him...imagine all of a sudden having absolutely no say in what happens to your body."

Jason nodded curtly, uncomfortable with the course of the conversation. "I understand that. They locked him up, they hurt him; he had no ability to stop it."

The doctor nodded. "Exactly – but that isn't even the beginning of the issue with Mr. Spinelli. On top of what he experienced, there is the complex that is created because he realized he wasn't able to control his emotions or physiologic responses to the drugs and the torture...that attacks his self-image of his strength. He was already suffering from depression, that added to it."

Jason listened silently. Spinelli had always questioned his own sense of strength as it was – this couldn't have helped that.

"Now we know he was muttering about killing you when we first brought him in, about something he did that is his fault. He was frightened and thought that he was hallucinating when he saw you – yes?" Jason nodded. "So he has guilt issues about something he perceives he did to harm you, unfounded, at least I assume so because you are indeed alive, but still traumatic. He had to not only comply with his captors - but do their bidding. He acts as thought he has something to be guilty for, and I would assume it is because he had to hand over information in regards to you or perhaps others."

"He should know I wouldn't ever judge him on that..."

"It doesn't matter because HE judges himself first. They took away his physical choices; then they took away his moral choices. Right and wrong, friend and foe."

"This is too much..."

"But it's still not all of the problem."

"What else?"

"Perhaps the worst part...in captivity he just had to deal with those stresses...But as soon as he was rescued he had an additional problematic situation - encountering you all. That meant embarrassment-"

"Embarrassment? Why? He didn't do anything wrong!"

"Because you all have to see him this way. You all have to KNOW what happened, see how defeated he was. His self worth at the moment each person comes back into his life and gives him pity is like a knife in his heart, I would guess."

"We care about him, he knows that."

"But he might _not_ know that. He was tortured by psychotic men, Mr. Morgan; forced to feel abandoned and to feel – _know -_ that no one would ever come for him. He feels as though no one cares about him. They toyed with his mind, twisted it around. Nothing he knew before he was taken is the same. He doesn't know who he can trust anymore."

"Why isn't he talking now?"

"The drugs have worn off. They were causing the hallucinations and now that those hallucinations are gone, he is in shock. We can't know how much he remembers, how much he has pushed deeper down, how much he has dissociated and we won't for a while. You just need to give him space and time to heal in his own way. He's in charge now."

Jason stared at the doctor, unblinking. The real and awful truth of the situation they were in finally hit him, and Jason was resolved to allow Spinelli to be quiet as long has he needed to be.

Jason entered the hospital room, smells of disinfectant tingeing the air he struggled for something to say. "hey." He rubbed his arm uncomfortably.

Spinelli's large eyes stared at him like he wasn't sure what he was seeing, he looked confused and on the verge of bolting.

Jason asks "You OK? What's wrong?"

Spinelli looked frustrated and started to gesture wildly, pointing at Jason and pantomiming something, which Jason did not understand.

"Wait, wait, wait - I don't know what you're saying."

Spinelli made a gesture like he was writing with a pen.

"You want a pen and paper?"

Spinelli nodded and gripped the pen Jason handed him in his right hand, glad that he had learned to write with his non-dominant hand when he was a kid.

WHY – Spinelli started to write then scratched it out and began again. THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD.

"Why did you think I was dead?"

THEY SHOWED ME NEWSPAPER - YOU WERE KILLED - IT WAS MY FAULT

Spinelli wouldn't look at him, knowing that whether Jason was alive or dead, he was guilty of betraying him.

"You saw a newspaper? That said I was killed? Well – I'm - not dead, obviously - you don't have to feel guilty."

YES

"You didn't do anything."

TOLD THEM THINGS I DIDN'T MEAN TO – ABOUT ELIZABETH AND JAKE – ABOUT THE BUSINESS – I SWEAR I DIDN'T DO IT ON PURPOSE

"It's ok, I know you didn't mean to."

SHOULD HAVE BEEN STRONGER – SHOULD HAVE BEEN SMARTER – KEPT QUIET – NO MATTER WHAT THEY DID TO ME

"Spinelli – you [b]were[\b] strong. You got out of there alive. They played with your head. Convinced you I was dead somehow - I - I don't know. They must have made up a fake paper or something."

Spinelli looked confused. He felt like an idiot, they had conned him and he fell for it. He knew they were playing games and still, he walked right into it.

"Hey don't feel bad – they had you all drugged up. You would have believed anything. They were killing you – anyone would have cracked under that."

Spinelli felt worse as Jason tried to convince him he was responsible for none of it. It made him feel weaker somehow. As if he was nothing more than a child.

SHOULD HAVE KNOWN IT WAS TRICK

"How? How Spinelli? They showed you a newspaper - why would you have thought they made that up?"

DON'T KNOW - I JUST SHOULD HAVE – I THOUGHT THE THINGS I DID – TRANSFERING FUNDS FROM THE ACCOUNTS I SET UP – I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE OK AND SAFE FOR YOU – I WAS WRONG – FORGIVE ME

"But you didn't tell them anything – they tricked you into thinking you did – I know you would never put me in danger if you could ever help it. And even if you did, to save yourself – do you think I would blame you? You're putting too much on yourself. Spinelli, look -"

NOT SPINELLI - DAMIAN

"Huh?"

MY NAME IS DAMIAN - NOT SPINELLI - NOT THE JACKAL – MY MOTHER NAMED ME DAMIAN – IT'S MY NAME – NO ONE EVER CALLS ME BY MY NAME! CALL ME BY MY NAME.

"UM - OK - Damian. Look - I don't pretend to know what happened in there and I -"

DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT. He underlined DON'T several times, with a vicious stroke of the pen.

"OK - we don't have to talk about it."

Spinelli's hand hesitated over the note pad. He didn't want to ask – didn't want to know if it was true. Then he wrote: ELIZABETH?

"She's alive. She told me what happened – what you did –"

Spinelli threw the pen and note pad across the room, ran to the bathroom and was sick. He sat back against the cold tiles and pulled his knees up.

Jason came in quietly. "Hey – are you – are you ok?"

Spinelli looked up at him.

"Hey – c'mon – let me help you. I need you to get better. OK?" Jason, the one who always had a plan, always was in control had no idea how to help his friend.

Spinelli fingered the scabbed cut that circled his wrist like a bracelet.

Jason stabbed the elevator button with his finger even though it was already lit. It was not like him to grow impatient with inanimate objects but then, who was he supposed to take his anger out on? Spinelli? Who was doing the best he could with the hand he had been dealt? Maxie? Who was stronger than even the mob hit man was and was holding it together for all of them? The doctors like Patrick and Robin who were only trying to help? There was only one man who deserved his anger and Jason could do nothing about it right now. He couldn't kill Anthony and risk going to prison – he couldn't do that to Spinelli. His hands were tied for the moment.

"Jason?" He turned to see Monica and Edward approaching and groaned inwardly.

"Hey Monica. Edward." He acknowledged them and then punched the elevator button again.

"The elevator is out of service." Epiphany called over the nurse's station. "And I would appreciate it if you would stop taking out your problems on the buttons."

"After all the money I put into this hospital, you would think the elevators would work." Edward blustered.

Monica ignored his usual gruff comment and turned a sympathetic eye toward her son. "How is Spinelli? We heard that he was found."

Jason had a hard time answering. How was Spinelli? That was a good question. He wasn't talking. He was making everyone call him by his real name. He was refusing to so much as look at a computer. He was barely eating or sleeping and when he did sleep he was having horrific nightmares. He was still having symptoms from the drug withdrawal and the torture and starvation he had endured. "He's…. alive." He shrugged and hoped that would suffice for an answer.

"You know, I always thought that young man was strange – he never spoke normally and dressed like a bum, but I'm glad those ruffians you call associates didn't kill him. You see? This is what happens to people that get into your business. These people you associate with – they don't care who they hurt. Sonny pulled you into the business and you pulled Mr. Spinelli in. That young man wasn't prepared for dealing with - "

"Edward!" Monica scolded her father-in-law when she saw the pale, stricken look come over Jason's face. "Jason, is there anything we can do?"

Jason took a deep breath. "I don't know what you could do. He's withdrawn; he's not talking; he's not himself at all. And I guess I can understand that after what he went through. But I don't know what to do. I want him to get back to his old self. I want him to put this all behind him, because Edward is right - I know that it's my fault after the life I got him into. But I'm going to change all that. He's out of the business – out of the life. I'm not going to let anything like this happen to him again. I hope he'll be all right. The doctor says he needs time. How do I give him time when I just want him to be ok? How am I supposed to just - " Jason made a helpless gesture indicating he had no idea what he was doing.

Edward's usual gruff demeanor cleared for a moment and he put a hand on the shoulder of the man that had, in another lifetime, called him grandfather. "Jason, maybe I'm the wrong one to say this but I know from experience that you can't push. If you push – you'll lose him."

Jason looked the old man in the eye wishing things could have been different between them, and nodded.

The coldly efficient nurse bustled around Spinelli checking his pulse, sticking a thermometer in his mouth, attaching a blood pressure cuff to his arm, completely oblivious that each movement she made, each touch, made him wince and break out into a cold sweat.

Maxie tried to gain his attention by telling him about her day in the fashion industry, hoping it would be sufficiently frivolous in order to distract him. But though he wordlessly pretended to be paying attention to handbags and spring collections, the tension in his body told otherwise.

When the nurse grabbed Spinelli's arm, wrapped a rubber cuff tightly around it and flashed a needle, making Spinelli cringe in fear, Maxie let out a puff of exasperated breath. "Can't you see you're bothering him?"

"I'm sorry?"

"All that poking and prodding. He doesn't like it."

Spinelli looked embarrassed and the nurse looked irritated.

"Look, I have to get his vitals. I'm sorry if he doesn't like it. And I don't care if you do either."

"How long have you worked here?"

"What?" The young nurse snapped.

"I asked you how [i]long[\i] you've worked here. I'm guessing not very long since my [i]cousin[\i] Dr. Robin Scorpio would never stand for this kind of behavior around one of her patients. Not to mention Bobbie Spencer-Jones, [i]my aunt[\i], Head of Nursing probably wouldn't be too happy either."

The nurse's face changed from annoyance to worry. "I – I'm sorry. I meant that – well – you know – I have to do my job."

"Well, if you don't do it with a little more sensitivity, you'll be doing it at Mercy - if you're lucky. The recession is hitting everyone hard you know."

"I'm sorry." The nurse replied awkwardly then gently jabbed the needle into Spinelli's arm as he looked nervously at the wall.

When the nurse had left, Spinelli dragged his ever-present notebook towards him. DIDN'T NEED TO DO THAT –

"Spinelli – I – mean Damian – you know that one of the joys in my life is putting people in their place. And I'm really good at it. Besides she was being horrible – she deserved it." Maxie smirked.

Spinelli gave her a tentative smile back. She really did amaze him. She was wild and stylish and beautiful and she loved him – incomprehensibly – she really did love him. But did she love him like a man or a child? He wasn't quite sure.

"Oh my God, Day, why the HELL did you leave your room?" Matt stormed into the chapel, spotting his little brother curled up on one of the pews in the back row.

Spinelli's face grew dark when Matt started walking towards him, and he turned away.

Matt slowed down his pace, suddenly aware of how accusatory he'd been. His heart had been racing nonstop ever since Jason had discovered that Spinelli was not in his room. A mere five minutes had passed, but he felt as though it was a longer time, worrying that someone had finally come back to snuff out the witness.

When Spinelli scowled at him, Matt realized that his brother probably still hadn't warmed to the possibility of any kind of relationship with him. "Hey...um...sorry. No one knew where you were...everyone's worried."

Spin took out his notebook and scribbled.

JUST WANTED TIME ALONE. TO THINK.

"You want some time alone? I can go – I just – " Matt started to turn away.

Spin waved his hand to stop him. IT'S OK – YOU CAN STAY. He wrote.

Matt was surprised but didn't want to say anything to disturb the tenuous peace between them. "Are you praying?"

Spin nodded, looking at the ceiling, he pointed to the ceiling, then to his head, his throat and his heart.

"Do you really think he will answer your prayers?" Matt said skeptically.

Spinelli shrugged and wrote: I'M ALIVE. Then Spinelli thought for a minute. NEED HELP WITH SOMETHING.

"What is it?"

NEED SOMETHING – CAN YOU GET IT FOR ME?

"I need to know what it is."

SCARED TO ASK

"What?"

NEED POT – MARIJUANA.

"Pot? No. I can't get you that!"

NEED IT – SERIOUSLY

"Why?"

TO SLEEP – CAN'T SLEEP – DREAMS KEEP COMING AND I CAN'T TURN THEM OFF. IT'S BAD SOMETIMES. I NEED TO SLEEP.

"Damian – look, you just got clean from all those drugs – I don't think that will help – we're trying to get your meds adjusted and it will effect them. You don't know what that stuff will do. Besides I am a doctor, I can't just go buy you pot. We'll change your sedatives if you can't sleep."

Spin frowned.

I NEED IT! I CAN'T GET IT MYSELF. CAN'T DO ANYTHING FOR MYSELF. He angrily underlined ANYTHING.

"I – I don't know Day….Maxie and Jason'll kill me."

FINE. I'LL FIGURE SOMETHNG OUT. Spinelli got up in frustration.

"Day – wait." He shook his head not believing he was going to agree to this. "I'll see what I can do. OK?"

Spinelli shrugged one shoulder, unconvinced his brother would come through for him but didn't expect him to anyway. Then he turned and left to go back to his room.

Matt looked around at the chapel, wondering when the last time he had been in a church had been. Probably when he was a kid if you didn't count weddings. He also wondered how Damian could still believe in a just God after what he had been through.

"Day."

Damian had been reading. He had been doing that a lot lately. Jason had brought him his backup laptop from home but he didn't feel like using it very much. His wrist was still in a cast and just looking at the keys made him tired and feel guilty. He wondered if his computer would ever feel comfortable to him again.

He looked up to see Matt with a strange expression on his face.

He raised his eyebrows as if to ask: _"what's up?"_

"I – uh got you the stuff you asked for…"

His expression changed to a look of _"Really?_

"Yeah – come on."

WHERE ARE WE GOING? He wrote.

"Well we can't exactly do it here, can we? We're going up to the roof."

Spinelli followed his brother into the stairwell and up onto the roof.

Matt handed him a small plastic baggy filled with marijuana and some rolling paper. "I can't believe I got this for you." He frowned and shook his head and handed his brother a disposable lighter.

Spin shook some out and - with his good hand in a cast - awkwardly rolled a joint. It looked like an amateur had rolled it instead of the experienced stoner he once was, but it would do the job. Sitting down in the corner of the wall overlooking the city, he lit it and took a deep drag. As the smoke filled and seared his lungs, he coughed briefly but held onto the comforting feeling. A hazy feeling filled his brain and body as the sweet sour smell of the smoke enveloped him and he could feel himself relax for the first time in months.

The shakiness that was always present disappeared and he almost cried in relief. The drugs that had been forced into his body and down his throat were nothing like this. _He_ controlled it, the way it made him feel; the thoughts that went through his head. It was _his_ own choice and that made him feel good.

He closed his eyes and a faint, loopy smile came over his face.

After a while, Matt cleared his throat. "You know you can't do this all the time. I mean – I understand that you want to zone out – I get that. But you can't use this as a way to forget about everything. Don't get hooked on it."

Spin sighed. He should have known Matt would ruin his buzz. He took out his notebook. I KNOW - BESIDES JASON HATES IT AND SO DOES MAXIE.

"She's a good woman. You're lucky."

THOUGHT I LOST HER – TO YOU.

"She was using me – she was afraid to let herself love you. She does you know – love you."

DON'T KNOW WHY. CAN'T EVEN PROTECT MYSELF. CAN'T TALK. CAN'T DO ANYTHING. Spinelli's buzz had definitely faded – he took another drag hoping to gain the high ground.

"That's not true. No one could have protected themselves in that situation. A lot of people wouldn't have even made it out of there alive. And talking – well, that will come."

DON'T WANNA TALK ANYMORE ABOUT IT. Spinelli took another drag rested the back of his head on the wall and for another moment forgot about everything.

He scribbled on his notepad again. I'M HUNGRY

"Yeah? Hungry? That's a good sign. What do you want? You name it."

KELLY'S CHEESEBURGER, BBQ CHIPS, ORANGE SODA

"Yeah – I think I can arrange that." Matt smiled. With all his medical knowledge rendered useless, a baggie of pot snuck from the medical research lab and he felt like he was finally helping his kid brother.

"I need to talk to him Maxie. I need to get a statement."

"Mac – he can't even talk – how are you going to get a statement? He's not ready."

"Maxie – I know you want to protect him. But this is a police matter. He was kidnapped and we need to get the men who did this."

Maxie sighed.

"Spinelli?" Mac walked into the room.

Spinelli looked up with a suspicious, nervous glare.

"Hey, Spinelli. I need to get a statement from you." Spinelli didn't answer. "Can you understand me?"

"Dad! Of course he can." She turned to Spinelli. "He just needs you to tell him who took you – they want to get the guys who did this."

Spinelli looked at her and remembered Anthony's words. _"If you think you are going to get out of this – you are sadly mistaken. And let me tell you – if the cops ever come after me – you can rest assured, that pretty little Maxie Jones? Well, a rotting corpse isn't too pretty is it?"_

I DON'T KNOW – NEVER SAW THEM. MASKS. He felt bad for lying to Mac but he couldn't let Maxie get hurt.

"Is there anything you can tell us? Anything that might give us a lead?"

Spinelli dropped his eyes and shook his head.

"It's Anthony Zacharra Mac – everyone knows it!"

"Maxie – I can't go arresting people over gossip. As much as I would love to throw the book at Anthony Zachara, I need evidence or a witness statement."

"I probably should head home – you need your rest." Maxie leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. Spinelli gently grabbed Maxie's shoulder and shook his head.

"You don't want me to go?" He shook his head again. "I won't go. I'll stay - can I lay down next to you?" Spinelli thought for a second before nodding – not sure if he really wanted what she was asking. He hadn't had full night's sleep since his rescue – it seemed like every hour he woke up in the throws of a nightmare. Maxie snuggled down next to him and took his hand. "I thought I lost you." she whispered before fell asleep in each others arms.

Spinelli woke in a cold sweat. It was the same nightmare he had all the time - that Maxie had been lying on the floor, her blood draining away. But this time was different -

when he looked down she was there - sleeping peacefully. He lay back down and let a silent prayer form. _God – please keep her safe. I'd go back to that Hell in a second if I knew it would keep her safe._

**Next: Spinelli returns home – but will anything be the same ever again?**


End file.
